Marr
by Feravai
Summary: Darth Marr has arrived at the moment of his death, and as he struggles to fight the void that would engulf him, he sees the effects of his actions on those he left behind. My take on Darth Marr's life story.
1. Chapter 1

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Prologue~**

It is said, at the moment of death, our life echoes before us—each passing moment, a judgement condemning us to the void or elevating us beyond it and for those whose lessons are not yet complete, it is a battle we must win so that they will not suffer our failings.

During this battle, the ripples of our actions and how they affect those who traverse our life's journey, weigh one side or the other of the supernal abacus tallying our worth.

I stand at the precipice, overlooking the gloaming where life meets death, with the Force at my side and whether it will be my ally or adversary remains to be seen. While we cannot refuse death, we can resolve how we meet it.

I once believed life to be the enemy and death our solace, but I see now…that is false. It is the proving ground of the Force.

This is the story of my life, my battle—and the sum of the wisdom I would impart to those I leave behind. I offer it freely in the hope of defending my Empire one last time.

This is my final legacy, take it for what you will.


	2. Chapter 2

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter One~**

 _We are time's medium. In death, the omniscient sculptor reveals the final product of his careless art—a single thread of all that we were and all we've forgotten. Concealed within the Force, I am relegated to the part of spectator—a witness to my own birth…_

I was born of a corpse. That fact alone was enough to breed frightened whispers among our slaves, but hardly surprising considering my father's reputation. Idle gossip would harden into fact and fact would become history—rife with curses and prophecies and dark entities I would one day learn are all too real.

Cut from my mother's body by a nervous healer, my first breath was tainted by discomfort and dread, and it was perhaps this moment that coloured my expectations of what my life would become. Each breath, each heartbeat, was a battle to be won.

He held me to the light. I was no larger than a meiloorun fruit, marbled with thick blue veins and pasty flesh. Every curdled breath came faster than the last and the blinding heat from the light stung my callow eyes.

The healer snorted and his careless handling told me his judgement was complete. I was imperfect and weak—a blight on the Tacitus name. I squirmed in his hands, protesting his verdict with flailing fists the size of acorns.

How easily he might have squeezed me into a pulp, but something in the way the shadows moved and darkened the room made his eyes bulge. He cast me aside like runted pup and made for the window.

He threw it open and a gust of frigid air came in. Pale and dithering he sat on the window's ledge and after little debate, he grasped the vines surrounding the window and dropped from sight.

Something gauzy fluttered above me just out of reach. For a time, I believed it was my mother's ghost watching over me but in truth, it was a curtain, nothing more.

Alone in the dimly lit room, I became aware of the feeble instrument pattering under my ribs. Somehow I knew if the clumsy uncertain rhythm stopped, I would die. Whether it was by will or instinct, the decision was made: I would not surrender without a fight.

Cold dry air churned in the room. The blood soaked nest of swaddling around me dried to a chilly crust. When I railed against it, a metallic stench filled my nose.

The impulse to close my eyes was strong but something warned me not to. If I closed my eyes, my heart would stop. If it stopped, so would I. Another warning urged me to cry out. I obeyed—wailing until the room's perfect silence was shattered and my face smarted and turned red from the effort.

The door handle rattled. Voices called out for my mother and the healer. When neither answered, several sharp blows rammed the door until it flew open. The same whisper that warned against closing my eyes told me to be still and quiet now. The frail beating in my chest quickened and grew loud in my ears. I was sure it would give me away.

The servants—a man and a woman, rushed in. The door shuddered on its hinges and the two stood, mouths agape.

Fear roiled around the woman, a tempest of emotion so vibrant it raised in me an appetite that rivalled the need for something to fill my belly—something to fuel the beating in my chest.

The houseman shut the windows. His breath was like smoke, dispersing as he moved. He rubbed his hands together and blew on his fingers. He covered my mother's body and turned back the edge of the blanket beneath her shoulders. If not for her ashen skin and sunken eyes, she might have been sleeping.

In restoring her dignity, the man endeared himself to me and I watched him with quiet interest. Instinct told me these were good people and I was not afraid.

The woman lifted me out of the soiled linens and stowed me inside her dress. The heat of her body warmed mine. She smelled of sour milk and sweat. I curled against her in a ball and felt the tepid heat of her idle milk wet my body.

I fought the urge to close my eyes with renewed vigor. She spoke a kindly gibberish to me, but no sound was as comforting as the steady pounding of her heart.

She settled by my mother's side and wept while she held me. The houseman raised a fire in the hearth. Setting aside her grief, she took the chain dangling over my mother's forehead and slipped it into an envelope of clean cloth and stowed it inside her robes.

The man soothed the woman's shoulders and her trembling eased. I listened to their hasty whispers and watched their blurred faces with wide eyes.

He caressed my back through the woman's dress and then he spoke. His voice came in a low confident rumble and his vacillating accent told me, he was not born an Imperial but had acquired the accent over time. He struck me as a thoughtful man, even if he was of low birth.

"Lish…see how he looks at us…like he understands." He stroked his short cropped beard and smiled.

"Poor thing…it would be better if he didn't. I fear for him, Ailan. He's come too soon—I doubt he'll last the night. His little body is so cold."

She arranged my body against hers and my mouth found the source of her milk. I drank in greedy slurps, and for the moment their voices faded in the bliss that came with nourishment.

"I didn't want to believe it but perhaps it's true. The house of Tacitus _is_ cursed. As generous as they've been, we need to be careful. Maybe it was the darkness that took our son from us—" He glanced over his shoulder as if expecting the shadows to smother him against the wall.

"Hush Ailan, you'll scare him. Our boy was born sick not _cursed_." She swiped at her eyes and her chest heaved.

"Lish—I'm sorry…I didn't mean—I…I was thoughtless." He sighed. "Curse that damn healer. I hope he rots in every hell, abandoning the boy to die like that."

"Our master will find him," Lish began with barely restrained bitterness. "And when he does…the coward _will_ die."

"We need to inform Lord Tacitus." He frowned and paced to and fro. "Do you think he'll blame us?"

"No…I don't think so…we found her…we carried her to bed, we called the healer…what more could we have done for her? It's not our fault that fool is the only healer within five hundred kilometers."

"Who knows what he'll do in anger and grief…"

"He's more reasonable than the other Sith I've seen. We'll tell him together. He won't hurt us if we're holding his son."

Ailan sighed. "I don't understand. She didn't _seem_ sick…no more than you were..."

"The healer said something about her blood pressure…but I don't know what that means. It doesn't matter now. See if there's clothing for the little one."

After I'd drank my fill, she lifted me away and dressed me in the bantha wool coverings my mother had made. The clothes were too big—at least twice the size I was.

No sooner had she finished wrapping me in a new blanket, a blast shook the household. Trinkets skittered from my mother's vanity to the floor.

Lish leapt to her feet and I protested the sudden motion and noise. "What's happening? Are we under attack?" She quailed.

"I don't know…"

Another blast, this one closer than the last, splintered the roof. Debris fluttered through the gap like falling leaves.

Ailan cast around for a weapon but found none. "We have to get out of here."

"Don't be afraid, little one," she whispered while covering my head.

Screams rose through the ceiling like heat when the attackers breached the stronghold. Ailan crept out of the bedroom and Lish followed. I could hear the other slaves scattering like frightened hens, their cries cut short by the invading Sith. The stairs creaked under the weight of more men creeping upwards.

My rescuers grew pale and wild-eyed with fear.

Flashes of colour slid up the wall and caught my eye before I was plunged under the blanket again. Lish's heartbeat thundered against my ear. "Don't cry little one…for the sake of all that is good…don't cry." She gasped. "Ailan…Get down—they'll see you."

"Shhh. Come on." Half-crouched, he towed us back to the bedroom. The cover on my face fell away and a blur of smoke and flame surrounded us. Ailan shut the door and pushed a wardrobe against it to slow them down. He threw his gaze around the room and paced as he considered what to do next.

"The window—there's no other way." He threw it open and peered down. Rage coloured his face. Sprawled at the bottom, lay the body of the healer—his neck, arms, and legs bent oddly, tangles of vines still tight in his fists.

After seeing the healer's fate Lish shook her head. "I can't."

"You _can_ and you will…for _me_ …and for _him_. The boy needs us…at least until we can find his father."

"I can't hold him and climb. I'll drop him," Lish whimpered.

"Give him here."

Reluctantly she passed me over. He tucked me inside his vest and cinched his belt around me to hold me to him.

"Lish…listen to me. Hold onto the trellis, not the vines. They won't hold our weight. And don't look down. Go!"

The door shuddered as something large slammed against it.

"Hurry! Someone's trying to get in."

Lish swallowed hard and stepped back onto the trellis. No sooner had she started out, Ailan followed. The ramming against the door grew louder, but not loud enough to mask the angry shouts filtering through the door. A lightsaber growled and Ailan swore.

"Faster, Lish. They're cutting through."

The wooden trellis shook and swayed with every movement and Ailan muttered prayers, that it would hold them.

His chest was hot and slick with sweat and my body slipped, inching lower with every downward step he took. My foot dropped behind his belt and dangled over his groin. He swore under his breath.

Lish gasped when her feet touched the ground and a loud crash above us suggested the invaders had broken through the barricaded bedroom door. She stared at the dead healer, wide-eyed, slack-jawed and broken at her feet. Mesmerized by the expression death had left on his face, she froze.

"Lish…"

Ailan's voice broke the spell and she gasped.

He snatched her hand and towed her close to hide among the bushes jutting from the stronghold.

My body jounced against Ailan's chest. They ducked into an alcove and turned to face each other, my body sheltered between them. He held his breath and Lish's hand and listened for the men above.

One of the men snickered. "That fool won't be going far."

"Course not, he's dead, look at 'im. Broke his damn neck trying to get away from us," another added.

"Just as well. Lord Taxon wants us to sweep for stragglers then torch the place."

Ailan glanced up toward the window and waited. "I think they're gone. Stay close to the house, but watch the windows," he warned.

A trio of fighters screeched overhead and released another volley of fire over the grounds and somewhere close by, the gnashing growl of lightsabers hummed. Staying to the shadows, we inched along the house.

"If we can make it past the wall…we can hide in the forest," Ailan whispered. He pulled the blanket apart to peek down at me and smiled when I stared up at him. "That's a good lad. Stay quiet…and we'll be all right."

"We can't stay out all night in this cold," Lish protested. "And if we make a fire, they'll catch us."

"I don't know what you expect me to do," Ailan snapped. "I'm _doing_ the best I can."

"I'm sorry…I'm scared."

"I know you are. I am too." He scratched his head. "What I don't get is why they're attacking _us_ …"

"I don't know…Maybe our master angered someone important," Lish murmured.

The growl of duelling lightsabers edged closer and I sensed panic swell in Ailan's body. His breathing quickened. He folded one arm around me and peered around the corner of the stone stronghold. He ducked back and shut his eyes. "Dammit."

"What?" Lish hissed.

"Lord Tacitus—he's here—but fighting two others. He's hurt…I don't think he can't hold out much longer." He frowned and pushed me at Lish. "Take the boy."

She collected me and cradled me close. "You'll be killed. Don't go."

"If our master dies…we lose everything. Stay here. If I don't come back, go to the forest."

"You're unarmed…they'll _kill_ you."

"They're Sith. Weapons won't save me—I'll hope our master manages that."

"Don't be a fool," she hissed.

His kiss smothered the rebuke still on her lips and then he turned the corner before she could protest.

Lish spied on the men and held her breath. My father clutched his gut and fell to his knees, but before his challengers could finish him, he threw his hands out, electricity building between them.

A titanic outburst of blue lightning lit the grounds in a blinding radiance that rivalled the brightest day. The hiss of withering lightsabers followed in its wake. Steam lifted from the charred corpse that had been the Sith standing closest to my father.

Ailan tumbled past us and landed face down, five meters away. He pushed up slowly to catch his breath. Though unscathed by the lightning, he collapsed.

Lish cried out and ran to his side. Too late, she realized her mistake and threw her body over mine.

The surviving Sith leapt high, his purple lightsaber growling to life at the apex of his jump.

Lish screamed. Wedged between her and Ailan, I wailed under her weight. A scarlet flash, sliced through the air above us. The weapon's voice was low and deep—the hallmark of a powerful, ancient weapon and one that had glutted on Jedi and Sith alike.

Emerging from the darkness beyond the wall, the weapon struck its intended target with the elegant savagery of a tree viper and returned to the darkness from which it came.

The Sith's feet touched the ground and his lightsaber receded into its hilt. Something dense and ovoid tumbled down the attacker's back and rolled to a stop, face up next to Lish.

The headless body advanced three more steps before collapsing. Lish remained frozen in place, her mouth agape.

Ailan caught his breath and pushed himself off the frosty grass. "Lish…are you hurt…the baby?"

"No," she croaked. Still holding me, she stood with his help.

"I had the wind knocked out of me." His eyes widened as something else occurred to him. "Lord Tacitus!" He ran to my father's side and fell on his knees.

"My lord…my lord…" Ailan gasped. His hands moved over the hole burned through his chest, and then to his side to help him sit up.

My father sputtered and coughed. Blood dribbled over his lower lip. "Show me my son…" he whispered.

Lish turned me to face him and I stared at the metal face.

"Help me…remove this."

Ailan reached around him to unfasten the battle scored mask.

"Give it to him and my lightsaber…it's all I have left…My wife…I felt her passing in the Force…"

"Yes my lord," Ailan murmured.

Lish settled me into his arms and I reached for his face with clumsy hands. The amber in his eyes deepened into a darker hue—the blue of oceans, a trait I would inherit.

"He's small…but I feel the fight in him…"

"What will you name him, my Lord?" Lish whispered.

"Ares…after my father. My son is Ares Tacitus," he murmured. "He is the last of our line but no one must know his true name. No one. We have…powerful enemies who would kill him to steal his birthright. Teach him to seek Tulak Hord." His last breaths came in rapid shallow bursts. "Go. Raise him as your own, but not here."

A flash of pride sparked in his eyes before they dulled and cracked, his bloody spittle a long thread inching closer to my cheek.

The Force ebbed from his body, but for a moment it enveloped me—a fleeting embrace that defied words—or description, except to say that it was my father in his purest form, and for that brief moment I understood the man that he was, and the man I would become—a truth locked in my marrow for the rest of my days.

Death claimed the lines aging his face, leaving behind the husk of a younger man—an ode condemning our furious blood and all its passionate crimes.

It was at this moment I knew—death isn't the enemy—death is our solace.

Lish lifted me from my father's arms and kissed the top of my head. Ailan gathered my father's mask and weapon.

"He deserves better…they both did. I wish we had time to bury them," Lish whispered.

"They would understand. We have to go."

The pair didn't speak as they carried me into the forest and all that was mine, and all that was theirs burned behind us.

Over the years, I dreamt of that night many times, until the fragments formed into memory and truth, and yet one piece to the puzzle always eluded me…

It was not my father's blade that stayed the attacker's killing blow—the blade that came from the darkness and returned to it—wielded by what could only have been a ghost or a shadow.

It was a mystery I would never solve in life, only through death would I learn the answer.

Unnoticed by my adoptive parents as they trudged past the stronghold wall, a man stood in the darkness, well hidden among the trees. He watched over us as we traversed the forest, systematically clearing our path of vermin and beasts that would do us harm.

It was he, who dropped the satchel filled with credits and food, enough to sustain our escape.

I peered into the darkness, searching for the answer. Who was he? And then he stepped forward into the moonlight and I recognized him at once.

Scourge.

((to be continued…))


	3. Chapter 3

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Two~**

 _It is during childhood we create our first masks—forged not of metal but of lies. We make them to impress, to frighten, and to protect, but most of all to hide our truest self—only then can we make others believe whatever we need them to believe._

The veil separating us thickened and Scourge was gone. In the fleeting moment that I saw him, I felt alive again. Through him, I saw my daughter once more—her eyes and her boldness—her passion and her defiance. His vision of her fuelled his spirit and drove his actions for the centuries to come— _no_ —those centuries had already passed, I reminded myself. In life, I was seldom plagued by confusion, but here, in this place, I'm loath to admit it occurs all too often.

Time exists differently within the Force…it moves with a tidal fluidity in which I am the only constant. To explain in simpler terms—the past is the shore—solid and unyielding and easiest to navigate; the present is my awareness of _this_ moment—ephemeral as sunlight splitting the clouds, and the future is as the undulating sea—ever-changing and always in motion.

I would not fade quietly into the solace I found so alluring in life—it was my nature to do battle _then_ and I had no intention of resigning myself to death or the will of the Force _now_.

But to fight, I needed to learn to navigate the Force from within. I was not a prisoner, but I lacked the skill to move across time and space at will—a skill I had yet to master, as so many others had before me. I learned quickly that becoming a Force ghost was no small task. I longed to see my daughter again, and I would need to find a way.

Existence within the Force demanded that I abandon the conventions I'd grown accustomed to in life. I was an acolyte again, struggling to reconcile my current reality with all I'd learned before. I'd grown comfortable in my role as an immovable force, and now I was expected to become mutable.

When I attempted to move beyond the present and its confines, I grew disoriented, but I wouldn't be deterred. If I could not move forward, I would move back. I chose to relive my last moment with her.

United, we stood before him—Tenebrae, Vitiate, Valkorion—these names didn't matter, they only differentiated between his chosen vessels. He was one; he was all—destroyer, creator, ruler. The only name that mattered was the one the Force imparted to me at the moment of my death: Izax, the Ultimate Devourer.

Liatrix had defied Valkorion as I had but she was not here, nor was she among the living.

Troubled by this realization, I sought Scourge through the Force. Knowing the Force would prevent me from moving beyond the present, I forged my connection to him in the past.

The tether binding him to life remained inviolable, but his mind churned with memories and visions—there were no glimpses into the present or thoughts of the future—a state I knew was common among those who lay in a coma.

Scourge's mind lingered on a vision he'd experienced years ago on Coruscant. The vision, though vague at first, suggested a sinister future, but every moment he dedicated to refining that vision, yielded more clarity until there was no doubt of what it could mean: Liatrix was the marked as the next chosen vessel of Izax.

 _~Walk the path of Vitiate~_

In the vision, he saw her standing amid dark clouds, and when they thinned, a city came into view—a city I recognized as Zakuul's capitol. Bound by inky bands of flawless hatred, she drained all life within her reach. I sensed she was not alone in this half-life. There was another with her—goading her…twisting her mind.

From the darkness, a man extended his hand in invitation. I sensed his power over her—a dark charisma and eloquence which concerned me. Valkorion—the previous vessel. The demon, Izax, spoke through him.

"Walk with me," he said. "There is greatness in you. All that is mine…could be yours. I will share it with you."

Before she could respond, the vision ended. Wrenched from the connection I shared with Scourge, I found myself returned to the Force tide. I sensed the less than subtle demand that I submit to its will and I refused. Something in me railed against it, just as it had the night of my birth. I would _not_ surrender…to do so would mean the end of all things—and so began my campaign against the Force, and with it a new goal—to warn my daughter of the doom that had marked her as its own.

I laughed at the sheer madness of it—the neophyte ghost of a mortal man engaging in a battle of wills against an omnipotent and all-knowing power.

For a time, I sensed it ignoring me as if doing so would provoke me to pursue it and beg for its acknowledgment. I refused to lower myself. The Force would receive no such satisfaction from me. I folded my arms and with a single-minded determination, I stood unyielding in its wake.

The war between us raged, rife with silence and tenacity on both sides…for how long…I do not know. I indulged in the belief that I was winning and then, without warning I was ripped from the darkness and plunged into the past once more. I recognized the day as one from my childhood. I struggled to remember what set this day apart from the others and then, I remembered.

Eight years had passed since our escape from Ziost. I'd forgotten my home world and my birth parents alike. I was the son of Lish and Ailan Marr. We lived on Krayiss Two. My father worked as a labourer for the Imperial Reclamation Service and my mother worked at home sewing and mending for the workmen.

Our home was little more than a tent. We lived like nomads, moving from dig site to dig site and the latest held special interest for my father. The tip of a colossal obelisk had been uncovered and he was certain it would yield the answers he was looking for. There was talk of a library, centuries old and filled with ghosts. The legends excited him.

Sometimes I overheard my parents discussing a promise he'd made, and that working for the Reclamation Service was the best chance at keeping that promise.

I sat on my cot and watched the tent walls breathe in and out. The antiseptic my mother had applied to my cuts still smarted and a thriving crop of new bruises covered the old ones.

The tip of my tongue nudged one of my lower teeth and I tasted blood. A dark shadow hovered above my cheek, making it difficult to shut my left eye.

My father dropped his tools by the entrance and I imagined the exchange of knowing looks between them and the helplessness that followed. I canted my head to listen.

"It happened again?"

"It's been happening every day for almost a year, Ailan. Something has to be done before they kill him. Today, they hit him in the head with a rock. He _crawled_ home. He had blood in his eyes and mouth. He wouldn't fight back, so they called him _nothing_."

"Maker help us…"

"He's _not_ going back to that school tomorrow. If _you_ don't do something…I swear I'll go there myself and tell that foreman what his precious son and his friends are doing. They're savages."

"They're Sith…but…I'll talk to him."

"Talking isn't enough. I won't put our boy through this another day."

"Lish, we don't have the money to leave, and we won't get another chance like this again. I have to find out who this…Tulak Hord _is_. Do you want to go back to what we were?"

"I'd rather be a slave and know my boy is safe…"

"I'll think of something."

"That's not good enough!" She huffed and stalked out of the tent.

"Lish…wait! Where are you going?"

She didn't answer and the tent was silent for a long time before my father came in and sat beside me. "I suppose you heard what your mother said."

I nodded, but couldn't find words to say to him.

"Why don't you ever defend yourself? Hit them back? I showed you how."

"Because…" I dropped my gaze to the floor. "Because you need the job."

Tears filled his eyes and he pulled me close. "My boy." He rocked me against him. "My precious boy. Your mother is right. We're leaving."

"But I want to help you find him."

"Find who?"

"Tulak…Hord. You always say that a man is worth only as much as his word—you promised somebody…and if it's important to you, I want to help."

He blinked rapidly and looked away, feigning fatigue to hide his tears, but he couldn't keep them from me.

"It was the dying wish of a very important man. He was always good to us." He sighed deeply. "There is something…I want to show you."

He left my room and returned with a box.

"These things…belonged to that man and he wanted you to have them when you're old enough." He opened it with a fearful reverence and turned it towards me so that I could better see its contents.

"This was his mask…he never went to battle without it and he fought in many battles—won most of them too."

I traced the scoring with my fingertips. There was a familiarity to it I couldn't account for.

"He was…a Sith lord?"

"Yes. Fearsome, powerful…but just. He served to protect his people…and the Empire."

"Was that his lightsaber?"

"Yes…"

"Can I hold it?"

He glanced around nervously. "All right—but don't tell your mother." He balanced the weapon across his palm. "That end…points away from you. That button there…I think that's what activates it. But don't press it. The blade will come out and if you're close to someone, you could hurt them."

He set the hilt into my hands. The metal was cold enough that my flesh stuck to it briefly even though it was warm inside. It weighed less than I imagined and the pommel was a sharp fang tooth from some predator. It came with a wrist holster and my face hurt when I grinned.

"Can I try it? _Please?_ I'll be careful."

"Not in here. Come." He led me out of the tent to a clearing behind a dense thicket of saplings. He cast a nervous glance toward the camp and then back at me.

"Can I do it now, Father?"

"I'll stand behind you. Remember it'll slice or burn through anything. And once that happens, there's no fixing it. Don't cut anything off. Your mother will kill me."

We laughed and I beamed up at him.

"Well go on then…light it up," he said.

My stomach felt like it was full of flewts, their wings vibrating in a nervous pitch that matched my excitement. Crops of goose pimples sprang up my arms and I pressed my thumb to the button.

A thick blade of growling red light extended from the hilt. Words defied me and I said the only thing I could articulate then. "Whoah…"

I swished the blade left and right. Bright red streaks marked where it had been last like firefly trails. My heart thundered, and in that moment, I felt as fully alive as I ever had been. My palm tingled against the hilt and it smelled like the air after a thunderstorm.

Few occasions in my life would rival this one. There was a joy that came in holding the lightsaber—better than the rush of a speeder in the open country and better than my favorite food.

Everything that seemed impossible only a few hours ago was made possible. The galaxy was alive with opportunity and there was nothing I couldn't do if I set my sights upon it.

Best of all, I was no longer _nothing_. I was holding a lightsaber. _My_ lightsaber.

And then something occurred to me and I extinguished the blade.

"Ares…what's the matter?"

"Why would a Sith lord want _me_ to have his things?"

He bowed his head. "I always knew this day would come…I've been dreading it…but I suppose you're old enough now to know the truth."

I stared at him and didn't move.

"That Sith lord…was your real father."

"No— _you_ are. _You're_ my father."

"You're _my_ son in all the ways that matter, but I want you to listen to me, it's important you know the truth, but equally important that you never tell anyone else. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father…but why?"

He spent the next half hour telling me all that I'd forgotten and all I needed to know. My birth father had enemies, but in being ignorant of who they were, we were not to trust anyone but each other. I would always be Ares Marr…never Ares Tacitus. There was a weight that came with the truth, and I knew it would take a long time before I fully accepted it.

"Are you all right, Ares?"

"Yes, father."

"Good. Never forget—you were everything to your birth parents and you're everything to us too. We love you and we always will."

"I love you and mother too."

"We'll find this Tulak Hord…and he'll help you…far more than we ever could."

"Father?"

"Mmm?"

"Even if we don't find him, it won't change anything. You're my parents."

"A part of me was afraid…once you knew the truth you wouldn't want us."

"Don't be afraid, Father."

"I'll do my best, but I'm not a Sith."

"You don't have to be Sith to be brave."

He squeezed my shoulder and swiped the tears from his eyes. "We'd better go back…I'm worried about your mother."

The walk back to the tent seemed longer than leaving it. The second moon broke the horizon and was close enough that we could see its fissures and craters with the naked eye. The first moon rose hours ago but was dappled with dark clouds.

The tall grass was wet with evening dew and dampened our boots. When we arrived at the tent, I stowed my new things under my cot and my mother having returned, served our supper.

She pushed a parcel of premium kolto at me. "Drink this before bed…understand?"

I stared at the package. She may as well have pushed a solid aurodium bar at me. "Where did you get that?" I whispered.

"The foreman gave it to me—to heal you…along with his apologies. His son and his friends won't bother you anymore."

My father paled. "You confronted Lord Corsin about this?"

" _Something_ had to be done."

"Ares…take your medicine and what's left of your supper with you and go to your room."

"Why? I can _still_ hear you in there."

"Ares, do as you're told. I wish to speak to your mother alone."

"Yes, father." I slunk to the rear corner of the tent. I picked at my food and listened to them argue.

"Lish…do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Yes. I solved the problem. It's gone on long enough. Too long. I asked you and asked you and you did nothing."

"Because it would only make things worse, that's why."

"How?"

"You made us look weak. Sith don't respect weakness. The boys won't respect him…not after you ran in to fight his battles for him."

"I did no such thing. If anyone made us look weak it's _you_. A man protects his family."

"If you were a man, you'd be dead now."

"I don't believe that. Lord Corsin was very gracious to me."

"Dammit Lish! How can you be so naïve?" I heard him pace the plank wood floor. "There's nothing to be done about it now. I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

The wall dividing the tent shivered when he passed by and after he doused the lamp, I could hear sobbing.

I crept out of my room and peered around the corner, my empty plate like a shield against my chest. Mother had buried her face in her arms, but when the floor creaked she looked up at me, and like Father, she pretended that nothing was wrong.

"Did you have enough to eat?" She forced a smile.

"Yes…"

"Was it good? I hope it was good."

"I ate it all. See?" I held up my plate.

Her lower lip quivered.

"Ma…are you all right?"

She sobbed as she spoke. "I only wanted to protect you…I couldn't stand it…what they were doing to you."

"I'll be all right _now_. Don't cry." I sat next to her and put my head against her shoulder. "You don't like it here, do you?"

"Ares, it's not about what I like…"

"If we sold that kolto…could we go somewhere else?"

"No…It's for you. I want you to use it to get well."

"But if you could go anywhere in the galaxy…where would you go?"

She smiled through her tears. "I don't know. Somewhere warm and sunny. But it doesn't matter, we can't leave. Your father won't…"

"I know. He promised Lord Tacitus…I said I'd help him."

"How do you know about him?"

"Father told me. He told me everything."

"I thought it better to wait until you're older…"

"No. I'm grown enough now."

"You're _eight_ …" She pulled me close and held me. "To me, you will always be eight. And _you_ are up past your bedtime." She took my hand and walked me to my room. "Drink your medicine."

She waited until I finished it, and settled me onto my cot and kissed my forehead. "Now sleep."

The next morning, I woke feeling as if I'd slept for a year. I held out my arms—every cut, every bruise gone—even the newest ones had healed. My scars had faded and the loose tooth had re-rooted and stood solidly with the others. The black bruise under my eye had vanished too. Over the course of one night, the kolto had restored me.

I washed and started to dress. I hadn't finished hooking the toggles on my tunic when I heard Mother cry out. I dove under my bed and seized my lightsaber. I strapped it to my right wrist and crept out of my room.

((to be continued…))


	4. Chapter 4

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Three~**

 _What is regret…but the kind word left unspoken, the chance not taken, or the harsh lesson learned? It is all of these things, but most of all, it is the choice that hurts those who love us._

I peered around the edge of the tarpaulin divider, my mother's scream still sharp in my ears.

The alien stood at least a half meter taller than most men, a natural mail of rust coloured scales covering its body. Sharp talons tipped its hands and feet, and as if its natural defenses weren't enough, it wore heavily scored plate over its torso and legs. The ill-fitting armour bore half faded markings I didn't recognize, and I suspected the creature had claimed it as a macabre trophy from one of its victims.

It snarled at my mother in a guttural grinding language, and while I couldn't understand it, there was no mistaking the meaning behind the heavy blaster jammed up against her cheek.

Yellow needle-thin teeth flashed under crusty lips as it repeated its demands.

"I'm telling you the truth. I don't _know_ any Darth Taxon," Mother whimpered. "We were never on Ziost. I swear."

The creature sensed her deceit and cocked its pistol.

I crept from behind the wall and inched closer. My mother's eyes grew wide. I knew she'd seen me and feared giving me away.

My heart skipped in a wild rhythm and my right hand opened and closed in anticipation of drawing my weapon. I craved the weight and feel of the lightsaber in my hand but held off. I couldn't show my advantage too soon.

Somehow I had to lure the alien away from her.

It smelled liked a greasy bantha hide and I realized at that moment, that I stood too close. My mother realized it too. I held my breath and backed away.

The alien's nostrils twitched as it registered my presence.

My mother slammed her heel down hard, stomping one of the being's scaly toes. It snarled what I guessed was a curse. It didn't suffer for long, but the distraction was enough. Taking advantage, she jostled free.

The alien whirled on me. What happened next, happened so quickly I often questioned my memory of it.

The beast charged. I fell backwards and drew the hilt of my lightsaber before the full crushing weight of the alien landed on top of me. I gasped, unable to breathe. My thumb twitched. The lightsaber extended and liquid heat leaked over my hand and up my arm before the wound cauterized. The alien's eyes grew wide and a thread of spittle spilled over its lip.

Our eyes met and a gurgling hiss escaped it as the glossy green eyes cracked and dimmed. I retracted my blade and pushed at the fresh corpse pinning me to the floor. My teeth clenched from the effort and I panted. My mother tugged at its arm until the body shifted just enough that I could scramble free.

Green blood oozed from underneath it. I expected more, given its bulk.

I stood frozen, my feet rooted to the floor. Unable to breathe or move or speak, I stared at the corpse at my feet. Its tongue lolled from the side of its mouth and the stench of its innards made my eyes water. I had never killed anything before.

My mother knelt before me. She caressed my face and her fingers raked my hair. Satisfied I wasn't hurt, she embraced me.

"Ares, you could've been killed." She chided me between sobs and kissed the top of my head no less than a dozen times. I rested my chin on her shoulder and closed my eyes.

"Are you all right? Ares? Say something…"

"I…can't…breathe."

"I'm sorry." She relaxed her embrace and gripped my shoulders instead. "I couldn't stand it if I lost you. Are you sure you're all right?"

I nodded, though with more uncertainty than I hoped to let on. "What _was_ that thing? It was going to kill you. I _felt_ it."

"It was a bounty hunter."

"Do they all look like _that_?"

"No…this was a Trandoshan."

All at once the gravity of what I'd done struck me. "I _killed_ it. What if the foreman finds out? Father will lose his job…It came looking for us, didn't it? How did it find _us_? We're going to have to leave now, aren't we?"

"Ares, hush. Let me think. I _need_ to think." Her hands shook. "We need to get rid of the body before someone sees it."

"Where are we going to put it?"

"I don't know." She crouched to lift the Trandoshan by its armpit.

I seized the other arm, but even together we couldn't move it more than a few inches. I cringed at the sticky residue clinging to my hands. We heaved again in unison, but the corpse barely moved.

"He's too heavy…" She panted, giving up. "I can't."

"We could wait for Father to come home…"

"No…we can't risk it. Someone might see. This is the last thing I want to do to your father…"

"We _have_ to tell him…"

She lowered her gaze and sighed. "I know. I was afraid of this. Somehow Darth Taxon figured out that you're still alive. Took him long enough, but still…" Her cheeks flushed and then her tears started anew.

My mother faded from my awareness until there was nothing. It was as if something had taken a hold of me and whispered in my ear. An idea began to germinate—an idea that was wholly mine yet utterly foreign at the same time. The sensation left as suddenly as it had arrived, but the idea remained and solidified, and I was left wondering if this was how the Force communicated.

"Father said…the lightsaber would cut through _anything_ …" The words came mindlessly with a resigned vacancy in my voice. With a flick of my wrist, the hilt re-appeared in my hand.

Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. She stared at me for what seemed like a long time. "Y-you're not suggesting…cutting…" Her hand flew over her mouth and her cheeks faded from a hot red to an ashen green.

I nodded quickly.

"Maker help us…" She whispered. Her face grew a terrible shade of white and I thought she might faint.

"I can do it, Ma. You don't have to watch."

She shook her head. "No…I need to sit…just for a minute. I won't have you do this by yourself."

For the next hour, the sizzling growl of my lightsaber was the only sound between us. When the grisly chore was finished we wrapped each chunk in plastite and hauled the pieces past the clearing where I'd first held my lightsaber the night before. After scattering the pieces as far away as we could manage, we returned to the tent, hoping that predators would eliminate the rest.

While scrubbing away the Trandoshan's sticky green blood the tent flaps shifted and a tall shadow crept over the floor.

"Lish…"

My mother swore and whipped off her stained apron. She rolled it into a wad and thrust it at me to dispose of.

"Lord Corsin…this is a surprise."

The foreman strode closer to her. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything…I came to—"

I stared at the tall red Sith and realizing my mouth was agape, I shut it. After disposing of our soiled clothes, I pulled on a clean tunic and stood by the wall, watching.

His vivid yellow eyes fixed on me. "I came to see how the boy was doing." Something in his eyes registered surprise and I suspected he hadn't really come to check on me.

My mother straightened and finger combed her hair to neaten it. "What an unexpected honour this is…how kind of you, Lord Corsin." She bowed slightly and an uncertain smile flickered across her face.

She extended her hand to me, urging me closer. I crept forward and stood next to her, if not slightly behind her. "As you can see, Ares is doing very well. I can't thank you enough for your generous gift, my Lord."

He waved her off. "Think nothing of it. Had I been aware of the situation sooner, I would have put a stop to it. Boys will be boys," he said with a pronounced sigh. "Come closer Ares. No need to be timid around me."

I hesitated and my mother urged me on. "Go on…it's all right."

"Let me take a look at you."

Lord Corsin seemed more of a diplomat than a foreman in the way he moved and spoke. His opulent robes appeared out of place in the dusty wilderness.

I stood before him, and he knelt to look me in the eyes.

"I sense the Force in you…so much _raw_ power…and yet you restrain it…like it's something to hide or be ashamed of. Pity. If you're to become Sith, this timid streak must be broken."

He gave me a hearty poke in the shoulder and winced at the stringy thin mass he felt. "Not to mention we need to get some meat on your bones. I'll see to ordering extra meat for the boy…to bulk up."

"Thank you my lord, but he's _not_ timid…only wary…and that's a good quality for anyone to have, especially the Sith."

"I suppose you're right." He chuckled, the sound almost warm. "Tell me, Ares, why didn't you defend yourself against the boys?"

His gaze didn't waver and I looked down.

He clasped my chin and turned my face up. "Come now…tell me the truth. Did you fear them? Or did you fear punishment?"

"Neither, my Lord."

"Then tell me why? And don't mumble. Speak up and look me in the eye. Only _slaves_ lower their eyes. You're _no_ slave. Now tell me."

"I didn't want to make trouble for my father. He values his work and we depend on him."

Corsin shrank back. "How noble—a quality many Sith lack these days. Only the old families remember the importance of honour and nobility. No need to fear for your father. He's my most dedicated workman."

He straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. "The boys won't bother you again, but should they need reminding…stand up for yourself. Understand, Ares?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"One more thing…would you like to learn to be a _proper_ Sith?"

I nodded.

"Good. Now, why don't you run along? I need to speak with your mother."

I glanced back at her.

She caressed my cheek and smiled. "I'll be fine. Go outside and play. I'll call when supper is ready…and be careful."

The nervous flutter in her voice worried me. My eyes wandered to where the bounty hunter's corpse had been. A smudge of green stained the ground sheet.

Corsin set his hand over my shoulder. "Protective of your mother, I see. No need. She'll be quite safe in my company."

Reluctantly, I ducked out of the tent and frowned. The sun was still high in the sky and a rare cool breeze wafted around me. Any other day I wouldn't have hesitated to find adventure in the forest behind our encampment. Any _other_ day.

I shuffled to the rear of the tent and crawled under the side wall and into my room. Still tired from disposing of the alien, I flopped onto my cot. The roof heaved up and down in time with the wind and I yawned. I closed my eyes but re-opened them when Lord Corsin spoke.

"The Force is strong in him, Lish. He could have a bright future with the proper teachers."

"But the school here…"

"…Is not fit for the Sith," he interrupted. "It serves to keep the younglings occupied and out from underfoot, nothing more. Why do you think the boys fight? There's nothing else that speaks to their blood or their heritage. They need _more_. You want the best for Ares, no?"

"I do…but…Lord Corsin…meaning no disrespect, we can't afford anything more. I wish I could do better for him, but we have no other prospects. All we have is Ailan's wages."

The melancholy in her voice made my heart lurch. My eyes grew bleary. She had always said she wanted to give me the world and I knew she'd meant it.

"That could all change, my dear…"

"Lord Corsin…I'm marri—"

"When we're alone, you can call me, Fior."

"Yes, my— _Fior_."

"Much better. I sense your unhappiness. I well understand how lonely this life can be. Let me helpyou."

"How would I ever repay your kindness? I have _nothing_ to offer..."

"Now, that's not true."

I heard the clink of cups and the slow shrill whistle of the kettle. The sweet floral scent of Kopi tea wafted through the tent and my stomach rumbled.

"Maybe I could work for you…surely you could use a maid or a cook? What do you take in your tea, Fior?"

"Nothing, I prefer it clear. Lish—I have slaves to that for me. Cooking and cleaning are no life, for a beautiful woman such as yourself."

My mother giggled. Never had I heard her laugh like this and for reasons I failed to understand at the time, a plethora of emotions surfaced in me, leaving me both ashamed and confused.

"You flatter me…but it's the only life I've ever known."

"Truly? I wouldn't have guessed…You're a mystery, Lish. One I wish to unravel."

His voice took on a suave wolfish tone and I frowned. Mother laughed again and while it was a welcome sound, my fists tightened.

"No…no mystery…just an ordinary woman."

"There is nothing ordinary about you…let me help."

I heard the sound of chairs pushing away from the table and a few shuffling steps and clinking cups.

"Ares _should_ go to a proper school…he's of age now. All the best instructors—I have connections on Dromund Kaas. Think of all he could become."

"I need to think about it…"

"Then…while you're thinking…think about _this_ too."

There was a long silence—too long. I sat up. Then I stood, fists clenched and mouth tight. I wanted nothing more than to storm in but thought better of it. Perhaps Corsin was right…I _was_ too timid. The notion that I lacked nerve, served to stoke my anger. I folded my arms and seethed.

"That _is_ something to think about…Fior."

Her voice carried an excited breathiness, I'd only ever heard when she spoke to Father late at night—a sound I hadn't heard in a long time.

"I _want_ you, Lish, here…now. Whatever it takes…give yourself to me…"

"No—not like this. Not here. There are things I need to do first...to prepare."

Another long silence passed between them and Mother spoke again. "You're making it difficult for me…"

Corsin chuckled. "That's my hope. I'll return tomorrow…be ready for me. I expect things will change for the better very soon—for _all_ of us."

"I hope so…"

Another long silence passed, followed by whispered words I couldn't make out.

"Thank you again for the tea, Lish. I'll be thinking of you."

The cool draft meandering through the tent told me he'd left. I was too tired to be angry for long. I shut my eyes and thought of the dead alien and before the next thought could materialize I was asleep.

Hours later, I woke to the sound of my father's happy whistling. The smell of herbed meat filled the tent and my stomach rumbled again.

"Lish! Where are you…I have the best news."

I heard the cook pots clatter. "You're late…what happened?"

"I know, but we reached the library today—buried ninety meters down. You should have seen it…rows and rows of books and datacrons, all perfectly preserved. If only Ares could see this."

"That's wonderful."

"But that's not all…after we came back to the surface, the foreman called me aside. I thought he was going to say something about…last night. But he didn't."

"What did he want then?"

"I've been promoted to Site Manager. It'll mean more hours, but he tripled my salary and gave me something he called benefits."

"Benefits? I don't understand…"

"It means the Empire will see to _all_ our needs—more portions...medical costs…everything. And you know what else? Schooling for the boy. They'll pay his way in full. He's to go to Dromund Kaas…to become Sith."

There was a long silence between them.

"Lish…tell me you're happy. Just think if we'd left—we'd have missed out…"

"I am…happy. It's good news."

"You sound down…something wrong?"

"No…nothing. It's just…I'm going to miss Ares…Dromund Kaas is so far away."

"True…but we knew this day would come. We have to do right by him. It's what Lord Tacitus would have wanted."

"I suppose…"

"Where is he…I want to tell him all about it."

"He's outside…I'll call for him."

"This is what he was meant for, Lish. I can hardly wait to see the look on his face."

"I want him to be happy, I want him to have everything," she said softly.

"And now…it looks like we can finally give it to him."

A moment of silence passed between them, and then my mother's voice cut through the evening air—sharp as freshly honed clever—and all too willing to cut through any obstacle that stood in the way of my future.

I scrambled up from my cot and crawled out under the side wall. The sun had almost set and I rubbed the sandy remnants of sleep from my eyes. As they cleared, the memory of the alien bounty hunter and Lord Corsin crept back into my awareness. I caught myself hoping it had all been a bad dream, but the smear of green blood on my arm reminded me it wasn't. I licked my thumb and rubbed at the mark until it faded.

My father had never been so happy, but even as a boy, I suspected it was not so much his work ethic as my mother's promise to the foreman that bred the change in our station.

To speak of the hunter would diminish his hard-earned joy; but if one hunter came for us, surely another would follow. If that wasn't enough, how could I possibly allow my mother to sacrifice her dignity in order to secure my future?

To speak of either secret would mean the end of all things…

((to be continued…))


	5. Chapter 5

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Four~**

 _Our mistakes define us; they are the foundation upon which all else is built, and should we fail to learn from them, we are doomed to repeating them until we do._

I boarded the shuttle for Dromund Kaas the day following my ninth birthday.

At the shuttle depot, my mother fussed with the coarse weave tunic she'd made for my departure, while my father inspected the contents of my ruck sack to ensure I hadn't forgotten anything.

The departure carillon rang out and after a final embrace I strode up the boarding ramp. I stopped to look back at them and waved good-bye.

Together they stood, arm in arm on the platform, stoic and smiling. Outward appearances suggested that this was the greatest day of our lives, but this peculiar sensitivity I'd inherited told me otherwise. They hoped for my return but didn't expect it. They mourned me as if I were already dead, but felt compelled to promise the next time I'd see them, it would be as a Sith.

I took a seat by the window. The tinted glass allowed me to see them, but it was unlikely they could see me. The moment I was out of sight they collapsed into each other. My mother sobbed into my father's shoulder and I felt her heartache and remorse. I felt her regret. For as long as I could remember, she had told me that I was her world. No son, whether chosen or through blood, could expect more devotion than she had given me.

My failure to believe I could so utterly fill another's world would be a failing that would dog me for the rest of my life, but at this moment, I understood and I believed. Her world _had_ ended and with that despair came the understanding that her choice, for good or ill, could not be rescinded—that no matter how indirect her part had been, she had committed herself to being the benefactor or executioner of the one person she held most dear.

My father patted her back with a tepid rhythm, the motion matching the helpless look on his face, that suggested he had no clue how to console her. I wept for them both.

The academy demanded nine years of my life. The notion that I would not see my parents again for almost a decade was unfathomable, but I would soon learn that time was the least precious thing I would be expected to give up in my quest to learn the art of being Sith.

Much could happen in that time—things I was afraid to dwell upon. Would my parents be safe? Would they remember me? Would I remember _them_? Would I still want to?

I had heard many Sith abandon their Force-blind parents as if consorting with them would somehow diminish their power. I believed in loyalty and family. Was it possible for a school to exorcise the ideals I clung to? The prospect worried me. Would I even be aware of it, after such an absence?

Why had I agreed to this at all? Why would I _want_ to be Sith?

Many advantages came with being Sith. I would have the power to help my family escape those who would exploit them. I would have the means to provide a proper home filled with loyal slaves and guards who would see to their every comfort in their waning years. They had saved me, and it was my intention to return that kindness.

The idea consoled me until it solidified into a goal. I would dedicate myself to my studies and achieve the most important station any Sith could attain. To make sure I never wavered in this hope, I reminded myself of it in my quieter moments. I visualized the man I wanted to be—I saw the trappings that came with being that man. I would be Sith for my family.

No matter what the academy demanded of me, I would be as fixed as a mountain forged in prehistory.

The shuttle lifted into the sky and my parents shrank until they were nothing more than two tiny stitches in the planet's fabric.

* * *

Four days later, we had arrived. The dig site on Krayiss with its surrounding tent city and towering cliffs had impressed me. I felt small when I stood back to admire it—but I had never felt so humbled as when I emerged from the shuttle to take my first steps on Dromund Kaas.

I gawped at the monumental black spires, the tips obscured by cloud cover. Each building seemed to dare the flashing lightning to strike. Kaas City's skyline rivaled any sunset I'd ever seen. When I looked over the side of the platform the roots of the buildings seemingly bored into the world's core.

The rain pelted my face and I made a game of tasting as many drops as I could. They were cold and refreshing after the long shuttle ride.

A ruddy-faced boy followed me down the ramp and imitated my game. He laughed. "Bet I can catch more than you!"

He had boarded when the shuttle stopped to refuel at Hibernicus station.

"You'll drown if you do that long enough," the shuttle pilot taunted as he passed by.

I must have looked at him in such a way that compelled him to explain he was joking. I didn't laugh, and I heard him mutter something to the effect of, 'lighten up kid.'

We wandered the courtyard in front of the Sith Academy like stray nerfs. I stood with the slave born potentials and learned that the Sith born had arrived three days earlier. I caught a glimpse of my rival, Taiga Corsin strutting the grounds with his uniform and practice blade. He made a point of stopping to stare at the rag-tag band of slave borns that had arrived with me.

His entourage followed and consisted of his cronies from Krayiss as well as a few new ones he'd picked up since his arrival. They fawned over him like he was the lead singer of some holo-band. My lip furled. I hadn't missed their presence on the trip, but I did wonder what had become of them.

"Look everyone—they've brought in live practice dummies for us. Dibs on that one…" Taiga called out, pointing at me. His groupies laughed and my right hand opened and closed, keen to feel the weight of the concealed saber up my sleeve. A voice—a man's voice—whispered in my mind, "Not yet," and I stayed my hand.

I folded my arms and glared at Taiga as if he were no more than a maggot.

Unsettled by my calm, he retreated into his entourage of uniformed raptors. As they were leaving, an aide broke their formation and took Taiga aside, while the rest dispersed. I glanced away, and the next moment Taiga and the woman had both disappeared.

"If you don't gut that idiot, I _will_ ," the boy behind me snarled.

Startled, I turned around and looked at him. He stared at me with bright yellow eyes that reminded me of Lord Corsin's. Short bristled hair shadowed his skull and two dark veins bulged at his temples. I had heard whispers that he was adopted, like me, except his father worked for the Imperial Science Bureau as a biologist.

A tall shadow fell over us—that of the Overseer. He wore simple black-hooded robes and I guessed he was no older than twenty-five.

"That's enough out of you, Veradun," the Overseer spoke, his voice barely a whisper. He eyed me with a strange curiosity—the sort of look one gets when trying to decide if they know you or not. He stared down at his data pad and I guessed he was taking attendance.

The ruddy-faced boy from the station crept up next to me and whispered behind his hand. "I heard Veradun killed his father's Twi'lek slave girl. Have _you_ ever killed anyone before? I haven't. _Yet_."

The memory of the Trandoshan's dead eyes flashed in my mind, but I couldn't find the will to answer the boy. Bragging was something Taiga Corsin did, and I resolved long ago, that I wanted to be nothing like him. I could've killed a hundred Trandoshans but I would never boast of it.

Veradun glared at me, but then it seemed he glared at everyone and I wondered what sort of monster would kill a slave girl. I answered my own question—he was the sort that wanted to dominate everything and everyone. He was hostility personified and I doubted I would ever see eye to eye with him on any matter. I said nothing but instead took the measure of the other hopefuls. Most seemed distracted, excited or scared.

"You don't _say_ much, do you? I'm Gorton." The boy thrust his hand at me, and I stared at it for a moment before grudgingly taking it.

"Ares."

The Overseer crossed his arms. "You'd be wise to follow his example Gorton, or I'll remove your tongue myself. Now listen up, I am Overseer Silthar. While you're here, you will answer to _me_. I will assign your trials once and _only_ once. If you are too stupid or distracted to hear me the first time, the jungle is that way," he said, index finger jutting toward the west. "Perhaps you'll be of more use in some beast's belly or as the dung heap it leaves behind. You first trial is encrypted on your personal data pad in your quarters. The matron inside will show you the facilities. Dismissed."

As I turned to leave, a firm grip caught my shoulder. "Except you."

"Overseer?"

"You're with me."

I nodded and trailed behind the man at his elbow until we reached his office.

It occurred to me that perhaps I had been judged inadequate already or that they had reconsidered my admission to the Academy. Once inside, the doors slid shut behind us, and I stood at attention before the Overseer's desk.

Silthar sat behind his desk and folded his hands before him. "Ares Marr…I received a transmission this morning…and it is my sad duty to inform you, that your parents Lish and Ailan Marr were killed the day before yesterday."

My knees gave and I sat down hard in the chair behind me. We sat in silence until I worked up the courage to speak.

"What happened to them, sir?"

"Your mother and Lord Corsin were murdered…and your father was executed for their murders shortly after by camp authorities."

"But my father—he couldn't kill anyone…He just _couldn't_."

"I know. Regrettably, it was discovered too late, that the perpetrator was actually a bounty hunter—a human female. Security camera footage exonerated your father's role in their deaths. Their effects will be shipped to you on the next supply shuttle."

"They'll never get to see me become Sith. I wanted this…for _them_." My voice quavered and my vision grew thick and bleary. My knuckles cracked as my fists tightened. "I _want_ the security footage. I _want_ to go home…I need to see for myself."

"It may be possible to secure a copy of the footage. I can understand your need to know and your desire to avenge them…however returning to Krayiss Two is impossible."

"With Lord Corsin dead…I'll be expelled. He was my patron. It's because of _him_ …that I'm here to learn the art of being Sith."

"My boy...you use such unusual terms. What is it you think you'll be taught here?"

"How to use a lightsaber…how to study artifacts and find them. How to rule and govern over worlds."

Silthar laughed. "Forgive me…but you've been woefully misled. There is no artistry in death, except in the abstract. You are not here to govern or rule or dig in the dirt for trinkets…you are here to become a killer…a warrior. Your art is in bloodshed. You fight for the Empire, you die for the Empire." He snatched the air with his fist and shook it. "Take these words to heart, they are your first and most important lesson. Peace is a _lie_ ; there is only passion. Through passion you gain strength; through strength, you gain power, through power, victory and through victory, your chains are broken."

"Why can't I be like Lord Corsin and study archaeology…or like you? Your office is full of ancient artifacts. How many holocrons do you have on your walls? I see at least thirty…and your weapons…under the glass there. Or the scrolls in your shelves. My father showed me things like this on Krayiss…a Sith should know their secrets. My father said, that only through history do we know who we are."

"You are…an unusual boy, Ares. I wouldn't have expected such passion about antiquities from someone so young. It's rather inspiring. Most of the students your age and older are more excited by their practice sabers and combat than by knowledge. Scholars are few and far between here." His brow furrowed. "You remind me of a man I once knew…he taught me a great many things."

"Who was he? Was it Tulak Hord?"

"How curious…but no, not him. A story for another time perhaps. Let me assure you; you will _not_ be expelled. I suggest you find your way to your quarters and begin decrypting the instructions for your trial. The others will have an advantage over you. When I learn more about your parents, I'll summon you. Dismissed. Oh, and one more thing…I would advise you to keep your grief to yourself…there are those who would exploit it."

I nodded and left Silthar's office. No sooner had I rounded the corner, a great blur pounced on me, fists flying. My back connected with the wall and my throat grew hot and narrow. I sputtered unable to breathe. To break the connection, I brought my knee up against his gut. My attacker stumbled backward before coming at me again. It was only at this moment that his identity registered.

"I'm going to kill you, Marr. Your filthy mother got my father killed! I should've killed _you_ when I had the chance. My father is dead because of you!" Taiga snarled.

"Get off me!" I butted my head against his hard enough that my sight .led with bright yellow stars and I felt sick.

Taiga drew his practice saber and raised it to strike. "Time to die you worthless piece of—"

The voice in my mind hissed, "Do it now!"

My lightsaber came alive in my hand and with one deft slice, Taiga's eyes grew wide. He stumbled backward. It wasn't until he moved that I realized the full measure of what I'd done. His torso fell first and then the rest.

Red as the blood seeping from Taiga's body, my lightsaber growled and sputtered. I stared down at the heap at my feet and felt a presence behind me.

"That lightsaber…" Overseer Silthar hissed. "Where did you get it?"

"It's _mine_ …it belonged to my father…"

"Come with me. Quickly! There is no time to lose."

((to be continued…))


	6. Chapter 6

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Five~**

 _Sometimes victory demands surrender—and triumph comes with survival._

Silthar led me along a deserted corridor and then down several flights of crumbling stone steps. The weather-beaten walls and the dank odour rising up to meet us suggested this area of the Academy was condemned long ago—even the spiders that had spun the veils of webbing overhead had long since abandoned them.

The air smelled of loam and decay and yet was dry enough that the insides of my nostrils the same way they did in extreme cold. The torches wriggled as we passed by and there was the faint chitter of many whispering voices. Stone floor tiles gave way to coarse gravel and the stench of rotten flesh grew intense enough that I tasted bile at the back of my throat.

"Overseer…what _is_ this place? Where are we going?"

"This, my boy, is the ossuary…where the dead were placed before cremation became the custom," Silthar explained. "A charnel house, if you will."

I lifted a torch from its rusty claw-shaped scabbard and held it out to spread the light in a wide arc ahead of me. The walls consisted of stone niches, each filled with skulls and various bones.

"There are…hundreds of them…" I whirled around slowly, my mouth agape. "Were they all students…like me?"

"I daresay more like young Corsin, than you. I call _this_ the House of Failure…"

The whispers came alive again, almost as if offended by Silthar's casual remark. If he heard the whispers, he showed no sign of it, and I began to wonder if I was the only one hearing them.

"But why are we here?"

"Because we needed to be as far away from my office as possible, and we needed to get away without being seen."

"Why are you helping me?"

Silthar straddled the narrow stone altar at the center of the chamber and sat. "You were adopted, weren't you, Ares."

The weight of the lightsaber clinging to the inside of my wrist seemed to assert itself. I knew I couldn't recant my admission now. "Yes, sir."

"The resemblance is uncanny…but it wasn't until I saw the lightsaber that I knew for sure."

"You knew Lord Tacitus?"

"I did, yes."

"Will you tell me about him—tell me everything." The bone packed walls, the smell, even the whispers faded from my awareness. I sat cross-legged at his feet, an eager pupil craving the knowledge of a past I believed lost to me.

Silthar sighed heavily and tapped his chin. "Where to begin…"

"What was he like?"

"Well…when I was a student here, I was to be his apprentice, and I often accompanied him on minor missions…did research, things of that nature. He was…respected—ambitious—perhaps more honourable than most. He didn't hail from the old families, but he admired them and sought to emulate them. Septimus, you see, was a great believer in tradition—the old ways—but Sith politics conspired against him. There were forces determined to keep him from ascending to the Dark Council, but he was not one to be deterred. I see the same stubborn streak in your eyes, my boy."

I sat a little straighter at that moment, proud of the blood filling my veins, something I'd never lingered upon before. My adoptive parents had always said Lord Tacitus was a good man, but hearing it from another—a Sith—gave gravitas to the truth I longed for.

Silthar wove his fingers and flexed them. "When he put his mind to something, woe to anyone who tried to change it. When he couldn't gain power through politics he sought other ways and it seemed he was talented at finding them."

"Like learning from Tulak Hord?"

"My boy, you're getting ahead of me, but yes, that was one method. The source behind his power wouldn't remain secret for long—much like the great Emperor, he sought fuel to propel himself above the stations and whims of his fellows. Needless to say, your father's ambitions cultivated a great many foes. I for one hoped to see what he might accomplish with his gifts."

"Did you know my mother too?"

"Not as well as I knew him. She had a quiet dignity about her— she seemed quite clever…but sharp." His brows met, giving him a stern mien.

"Overseer? I sense you didn't like her very much."

Silthar chuckled. "I see not much escapes your notice—just like your father. No…to be honest, I _didn't_ like her. She ingratiated herself to him…became as indispensable as the air. Ultimately _she_ became his apprentice instead. But of course, she had certain gifts I could never compete with," he said wryly. "Forgive me, I mustn't speak ill of her…she is your mother, and had he not chosen her, you might not have been born."

"What was her name?"

"Lilin Shan..."

"How did they meet?"

"Her master had sent her to infiltrate Septimus's ranks…perhaps another reason why I never trusted her…"

"You don't think she loved my father?"

"No…I wouldn't go as far as to say that. I believe she did…she betrayed the Jedi Order for him. I hesitate to say much more, as I said, I didn't know her well, and I wouldn't want to impose my bias."

"I wish I'd known them…"

Silthar straightened and clapped the dust from his hands. "Perhaps, there is more about them in the archives. I wasn't privy to everything they lived through…I was only a part of their lives for a very short time. Come. We've tarried here long enough…too long, I'm afraid."

"But where are we going?"

"The spaceport…there is an exit here…somewhere…along this wall…" He felt along a row of cubbies for the switch.

"I don't understand…are you sending me away, Overseer? I was only defending myself. Taiga started it."

"That's neither here nor there—the rules state that no acolyte shall murder another…at least not openly, and there was no mistaking the animosity between you."

"But Overseer, you don't understand. I _have_ to find Tulak Hord…I have to! Please don't expel me. I have to become Sith."

Silthar clasped my shoulder. "I'm afraid _you're_ the one that doesn't understand…murdering another acolyte is punishable by death…but running away _isn't_. At the spaceport, you'll attempt to secure passage off world…and I will intercept you—an alibi—now do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good lad." Silthar's holocom chimed. "Excuse me, one moment." He turned his back to me, and the light emanating from the center of his com, cast an icy blue glow that clashed with the torchlight about the chamber.

"My Lord…this is an unexpected honor…"

"Don't bother me with your shallow pleasantries, Silthar. I'm eager to inspect the new arrivals—I have high hopes for one in particular."

"There were at least two or three that had promise…"

"I didn't ask for your assessment. I _want_ to see them for myself. Where are you?"

"On an errand…an annoying one at that. It seems a pair of the new arrivals have taken it upon themselves to leave Dromund Kaas prematurely. I'm on my way to intercept. I've already informed Lieutenant Demarest at the spaceport—she'll be on the look-out for our runaways."

"See to it they're found and punished. Make sure they understand that running away is tantamount to desertion and will _not_ be tolerated. There are _no_ second chances."

The pure-blooded Sith, looked as if all colour had been drained out of him. The hulking body combined with inky half-moons under his eyes and the pointed ear tips jutting from the hoary brush cut reminded me of an aging gundark.

The Force nudged at me like instinct and I fixed my gaze on the Sith lord hovering over Silthar's palm.

"Of course my Lord."

"I want to conduct my inspection by days end. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Taxon out." No sooner had he uttered the last syllable his image evaporated.

"Insufferable…" Silthar grumbled.

I backed away from the overseer.

"What's the matter, boy? You look like every devil is chasing you."

"Darth Taxon—murdered my whole family."

"That's a serious allegation…he's a member of the Dark Council."

"It's the truth! He murdered my parents the night I was born…he burned our home and somehow he discovered my adoptive parents and I escaped Ziost. He sent the Trandoshan bounty hunter to kill us."

"Trandoshan? The transmission stated it was a human female…" Silthar's eyes widened and I could see the calculation behind them.

"The Trandoshan was the _first_ bounty hunter he sent. I _killed_ that one and disposed of the body. I _knew_ he'd send another—and I wasn't there to stop it! He wants me dead."

"It seems then, we have quite a dilemma."

"I don't even know why…"

"My boy…there are three primary reasons Sith commit willful murder—vengeance, war, and gain. Perhaps, he covets something you have."

"Overseer, I don't _have_ anything…all I have is who I am." I spread my arms for effect.

"Perhaps… _that_ is enough. It would seem, that I am about to fail in detaining you."

He squeezed the mechanism hidden behind the bones and a door revealed itself. A shard of violent green light seeped into the chamber, and I knew we were somewhere in the jungle. I could hear distant birdsong and then the thrusters of a departing vessel, no more than a kilometer or two away.

"But what will happen to you, sir? He might kill you."

Silthar cupped his jaw as he considered me and I think my concern surprised him. "I doubt it. I'm an overseer with a perfect record. I would resume my duties, and he would no doubt, send his bounty hunter for you. Perhaps…you could stow away aboard a vessel that has been cleared for take-off."

"If I do that…I'll never be Sith."

"There is more than one way to become Sith, but none of them are easy. Come...I'll see if I can find a suitable ship…" Silthar dug into his robes and withdrew a sack of credits. "It's not much—but it should be enough for a few nights lodging and meals. After you set down…com me your location, and I'll wire you more until we decide how best to proceed."

"Thank you, sir."

"Let's be off then." He edged the door apart just enough to slip through it and held it in place for me.

A quarter of an hour later we crouched at the jungle's edge and watched the spaceport. Silthar and I observed as a small freighter emerged in the port's clearing for refuel and supply.

" _That_ one…they gave it the green flag…it's been cleared. You don't have much time…you need to be aboard before its finished refuelling. Go now…and may the Force always serve you."

"You too…thank you, sir."

I drew a deep breath and ran towards the freighter in cautious bursts. The crewman supervising the refuel crossed the clearing to confer with an officer and I took my chance to steal aboard.

Three-quarters of the way up the boarding ramp, the muzzle of a plasma rifle butted against my chest. "That's far enough. Going somewhere, acolyte? Hand's up."

I raised my hands and backed down the ramp slowly. At the bottom, a squad of troopers emerged from the spaceport and surrounded me. One of them was about to snap a pair of stun cuffs about my wrists when Silthar emerged from the treeline, shouting to intercept.

"There you are, you little mongrel." He backhanded me hard enough that I tasted blood. "I should have you executed for this…"

I kept my eyes on the ground as my arrest unfolded.

The overseer turned to the troopers and motioned for them to stand at ease. "I appreciate the assist men…but the cuffs won't be necessary. I'll see our would-be deserter into custody _personally_ …but before I take my leave with this wretch, I require a word with Lieutenant Demarest. The rest of you…dismissed."

"Of course, my Lord. At once."

Silthar clamped the back of my neck and made a show of growling at me before lowering his voice to a whisper. "It seems our plans have been foiled…but all is not lost."

Lieutenant Demarest emerged from the spaceport. She was a tall woman with russet hair coiled into a neat roll. A smattering of freckles united her features and upon seeing Silthar, she smiled brightly and bowed.

He released me and leaned in close to her. "Hello, Alyce…"

"Uncle, what brings you here…" She gazed down at me and smiled sympathetically. "I see someone has found trouble…"

"Unfortunately, this isn't a social call…I need a favour. If Darth Taxon asks you about the runaways…tell him that we have the matter well in hand."

"I would…but he's already _here_. He arrived just before you did," Lieutenant Demarest whispered. She reached out and dabbed the blood hovering on the corner of my lip with her thumb.

Silthar swore under his breath. "Understood…we'll speak again soon."

"I look forward to it, Uncle." She knelt and straightened my tunic. "It's not so bad here, once you get used to it…don't run away again, all right?"

I nodded and dared a quick peek into her eyes. I sensed she meant well, but didn't fully understand the situation.

Silthar cleared his throat and straightened and the Lieutenant took his hint—Darth Taxon strode toward us, the avarice in his eyes boiling and fixed squarely on me. He smacked his lips and seemed, even more, the gundark in person.

((to be continued…))


	7. Chapter 7

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Six~**

 _Alliances are borne from goals and enemies in common._

Rage bubbled under my skin. The heat under my tunic crept up my neck to set my jaw. I wanted nothing more than to strike Taxon and watch him bleed out after I cut him down. My hand twitched, craving for the lightsaber up my sleeve. A surge of whispers rose in my mind and everything seemed to slow around me. I thought the spirits of the failed acolytes had followed me out of the ossuary, but there was something darker driving the chatter until it became one voice, with a clear command: _Don't._

My heartbeat filled my ears and I clenched my teeth. I was caught in a war between body and mind and the effort to remain unmoving made my body shake. My mind's voice demanded a reason, and as if sensing my unspoken question, the voice answered: _He would use your anger against him—be still, be quiet. Confuse him. Only the stupid act rashly. Are you stupid?_

With my obedience came my grudging answer to the voice's question. If I survived this, my first goal would be to learn the identity of the voice that had been driving me since birth. I had suspected for some time that it wasn't my own, and this moment confirmed it.

Taxon stood only a meter away now and his presence jolted me out of my thoughts.

"Do you think me a fool, Silthar? Did you think I wouldn't see through your charade?"

"What is it you're accusing me of, Lord Taxon?"

"Aiding and abetting this murderous deserter. You thought I wouldn't figure it out—he murdered another acolyte—a pureblood no less and tried to escape the consequences of his crime with _your_ help…"

"With all due respect my Lord, I've done no such thing. The boy's parents were murdered…I suspected he would attempt to avenge them—it made sense that he would come _here_ —the reason I contacted Lieutenant Demarest, as I mentioned on the holo."

"It's as Overseer Silthar says, my Lord," the Lieutenant said, with a bow.

"Silence! Do not lie to me. Do you _know_ what the penalty is for what you've done, boy?"

I met Taxon's peculiar gaze and lifted my chin in defiance. "Death."

"So it is." Taxon curled his fingers into a claw and spittle flew from his lips.

His anger coiled with purpose and intention like a hooded serpent, eyes gleaming like beads of venom. If he was going to cut me down he would do it looking me in the eye, and if nothing else, I would haunt him forever after, the image of my face carved inside his eyelids, always there, always watching, whether asleep or awake or in meditation. I resolved to be the spark to ignite his madness and with my death would come his unravelling.

For a moment I questioned if this resolve was mine or an effect of the voice in my head. I decided it didn't matter and kept my gaze locked on his and then he struck.

Lieutenant Demarest rose high above us and clutched her throat, her legs twitching involuntarily. Her skin turned blue and the moment before she fell unconscious was punctuated by the sickening crunch of fine bones and cartilage shattering. She fell between us in a heap and a plaintive gasp escaped Silthar.

"Why Taxon? She did nothing wrong," he choked out.

"Her actions were unbefitting of an Imperial officer and you are a weak and pathetic worm—certainly not fit to be an Overseer and unless you wish to end up like your accomplice, I suggest you leave now. Return and it will be the last thing you do. Now be gone!"

Slow thick raindrops announced the beginning of a deluge and two forks of lightning clashed above.

Silthar's gaze touched on me and then shifted to his niece on the ground. He clasped his hands behind his back and strode into the spaceport, where he vanished into the thick of the crowd.

I glared at Taxon, once again waiting for him to strike me down. A peculiar calm settled over me; it was as if I was close to death, but more of an accomplice to it, than its mark and the familiarity I sensed gave fuel to my daring. "Aren't you going to kill me too, Taxon?"

"You will show the proper respect!" He stabbed the air before him, that simple act enough to hurl me against the spaceport's perimeter wall. I struggled but was held fast by the Force like an insect stuck in tree sap. He advanced on me. The cartilage points above his eyes curved upwards like horns and the pair flanking his chin joined to form a sharp point. Only inches apart now, his stale hot breath clung to my face and feral yellow irises rimmed in red bored into me.

He snatched my arm, bending it at a painful angle. "You won't be needing this," he snarled and stripped my father's lightsaber from its wrist holster.

"That's mine!" I hated the whiny protest in my voice.

"No, it's _mine_. It's always been mine." He ignited the lightsaber and carved the air with it, and I sensed the truth in his words.

"My father left that to me. It's all I have of him! Is that what you wanted? Is that why you killed my whole family?"

Taxon laughed bitterly. "Nine years I searched for this…but no…it's not _all_ you have that was his."

He dismissed the glowing red blade and the spidery red veins marring the whites of his eyes flared brighter.

"Aren't you going to kill me? You've taken everything!"

"Oh no. Not _everything_ …not yet," Taxon oozed.

A pair of troopers approached and lingered a short distance away to await the Dark Councilor's orders. Taxon sensed them behind him and his lip curled, twisting his face in a way that made my blood curdle.

"Gag him, bind him, and stow him in my cargo hold," Taxon barked. He released his grip on me and I slid down the wall, landing on all fours. On his way inside the spaceport, he stepped over the lieutenant's body as if it was nothing more than rubbish. "And clean this mess up!" He bellowed back at them.

One of the men moved in and wrenched me to my feet.

"Where are you taking me?! I _have_ to go back to the Academy."

The one that bound my wrists and ankles scoffed, "Aw, listen to the little deserter… _now_ he wants to go back. Should've thought o' that before you buggered off."

I could feel the current of electricity coursing through the durasteel casings and any struggle was met with a painful zap.

Missing a gag, the troopers exchanged glances, and silently agreed on a solution. The taller of the two rammed the butt of his rifle at the back of my head and my awareness of everything exploded into a starry pitch.

* * *

When I woke, I knew we were no longer on Dromund Kaas. My mouth was as dry as the air and when I drew my first deep breath I coughed and was left with the taste of sand and metal in my mouth.

I had no idea if hours or days had passed. I woke in a med bay and something hot and sharp poked at my scalp—a silver droid stooped over me, suturing the back of my head where the rifle had connected. I shut my eyes hoping to quell the dizziness behind them, and when it didn't stop, I groaned. The droid pressed a cold implement to the base of my skull and injected me with something. My discomfort vanished and I found myself grateful for the wonder that is kolto.

The viewport caught my eye, and I sat up, squinting against the blinding combination of the overhead surgical lamp and the sunlight cutting through the bay in wide dusty beams. Despite the droid's reprimands, I hopped off the examination table and realized I was no longer cuffed.

I levelled my hand over my eyes as a visor against the light and took in the landscape outside. Pale dunes ran like oceans against monolithic cliffs and the sky was an impossible colour—not grey or blue as I was accustomed to, but a shade somewhere between orange and mauve.

The tent city crowding the lower quadrant of the view told me we were at a Reclamation dig site, but one I didn't know.

"Droid…where are we?"

"We are located at the stronghold of Darth Taxon, Dark Council member and master of the Sphere of Defense of the Empire."

"But what _planet_ are we on? That's a Reclamation Service dig site…the tent city is there…"

"We are on Dromund Fels, fourth planet of the Dromund system in the Esstran sector, within the Stygian Caldera."

"How far is Dromund Kaas from here?"

"I am programmed to function as an emergency medic, not a navacomputer."

In spite of myself, I laughed. I couldn't remember the last time I'd laughed hard enough for my sides to hurt.

The doors to the med bay slid open and a young lanky pureblood strolled in. He wore flamboyant red robes and elaborate facial jewellery. His sharp red gaze fixed on me and he clasped his hands behind his back as if preparing to address the troops. He reminded me of Lord Corsin. My laughter died in my throat and my expression slipped back into its default solemnity.

"Prey, continue," he urged. "Far be it for me to interfere with whatever has amused you. Perhaps you'd consider sharing it with me. Maker knows I could stand for some amusement."

I stared at the foppish young man, uncertain of how to interpret his comment.

"IC-U8," he said.

"No…" I said, shaking my head.

The Sith cocked his head and laughed. "No…I was referring to the droid. That's his _designation_."

"How can I serve you, my Lord?" The droid bowed slightly.

"Tell me, how is our young guest…I trust he'll recover from his head injury?"

"The prognosis looks favorable my Lord, the damage was mostly superficial, I was about to clear him for duty," IC-U8 said.

My attention shot toward the droid. "Duty?"

The Sith sauntered across the bay and took up a data pad. "According to this, it seems Darth Taxon has assigned you to—well now this can't be right…" He tugged his chin tendril and frowned.

"What does it say?"

"I'm to prepare you for a _ritual_ …" A note of uncertainty tweaked his voice and the way he rolled the word 'ritual' off his tongue worried me, but unlike most other Sith I'd met, this one didn't seem to care if I _respected_ him.

"What sort of ritual…"

"I take it you've never heard of the beast of Noghri Fels?"

"No…I just got here."

"Probably just as well…it's rather unpleasant." The Sith turned on his heel and started for the door.

"Wait…where are you going? You can't just leave like that…"

"I am a Lord of the Sith and you presume to detain me?"

"Yeah, I do. I want to know what Taxon wants to do to me."

"I must say you have nerve for a mere boy…"

"Nerve is all I have left. My name is Ares Marr, my Lord. I'd like to know…so I can prepare."

"I suppose young Marr, that I can understand the need to prepare for meeting one's maker…"

"No, not _that_. I meant—prepare to _defend_ myself—to kill whatever the beast of Noghri Fels is…I want to become Sith…and I don't think Taxon wants that to happen."

"Clearly, you're not wrong about that…I suppose I could see what I could do…it seems a waste to sacrifice a young man with such bravado."

"If you try to help me…he'll do something awful to you…everyone who's tried to help me so far, is dead."

"That's why I intend to urge him to hasten your demise…" His lips edged up in a quirky smile.

"What? Forgive me…but you confuse the hell out of me…my Lord."

The Sith eyed me shrewdly. "You flatter me…and one day you could prove to be quite an opponent…or ally."

"I'd rather be an ally…"

"Very well, young Marr…but know this…you must trust me. What I say, may sound contrary to our goals…but I encourage you to play along."

"All right," I agreed cautiously.

"Then I do believe the game is astir!" He clapped his hands together. "Wonderful."

He started for the door a second time, and I leapt to block him. "Wait…"

"Is there something else?"

"Before you go, will you at least tell me your name?"

He considered my request and an impish smile flourished across his face. "A fair request, Marr. My name is Vowrawn…"

((to be continued…))


	8. Chapter 8

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Seven~**

 _The corrupt triumph even when they lose._

Vowrawn turned the ritual dagger over in his hands. "Truly, you can't expect me to believe this meager urchin is bound to the great Tulak Hord in any way. You're wasting time. I say we kill him and be done with it." He raised the dagger high and readied to plunge it into my heart.

I writhed against my bonds and growled through the gag.

"Stop!" To my surprise, Taxon stayed Vowrawn's hand before the blade pierced me. My chest rose and fell in desperate panicked breaths.

Taxon wrested the dagger from the younger man's bony grip and glared at him with narrowed eyes. "You defied me before—in treating him—and now you want to kill him…why?"

"The ritual calls for his blood…the beast requires it. Surely after anointing the sacrifice and spending hours inscribing the runes onto his flesh, you're not growing squeamish. I've listened to you blather on about this for past three years." Vowrawn folded his arms and shifted his weight back on his ankles.

"But why did you _treat_ him?" Taxon's voice was an ominous whisper as he leaned over me, his face a breadth away from Vowrawn's.

My eyes darted about the chamber as far as my field of vision would allow, with no choice but to listen to them haggle over my fate. The vaulted ceiling seemed to press down on me and disturbing shadows danced around the perimeter of the rough-hewn chamber.

"You're testing my patience, Taxon. It's hardly a proper sacrifice if it's half dead. It's far more meaningful when the offering is intact. I'm the best ritualist in the galaxy…are you truly going to stand there and quibble about every little detail?"

The runes marking my body ran the length of my legs and disappeared into my armpits before resurfacing on the undersides of my arms to culminate at my wrists. The blood ink had long since dried and my skin itched, adding another level of irritation to my predicament. My lungs rebelled against the sweet incense burning in the censer nearby and I barked through my gag.

They stood over me like opposing deities labouring over a dejarik board. There was no goodness here, only two evils—one absolute and the other terrifyingly mercurial.

"The ritual calls for his blood…not his death…" Taxon muttered.

"I suppose it could be interpreted in that way, yes. But why would you spare him?"

"He's valuable to me…the last remaining fount of Hord's blood and spirit. I doubt you would extinguish him so easily if he were yours."

"So it's not mercy, but avarice that drives you. You believe he could be useful again—another trinket in your collection." Vowrawn's eyebrow ridge quirked upwards and a terribly white row of perfect teeth lifted his lips in a sinister grin.

"I'm Sith!" Taxon snarled and bashed his fist against the altar hard enough that I felt it vibrate under my back.

"As am I," Vowrawn mumbled in an almost bored fashion. "An afternoon of poorly played Sabaac is more entertaining than this."

Taxon snorted. "You desire entertainment? Perhaps a wager."

" _Now_ you have my interest. A wager, you say?" Vowrawn clapped his hands together. "Seems almost sacrilegious."

"Don't tell me that offends you…"

"I said _almost_ ," Vowrawn deadpanned. "A wager it is then. So…what will it be?" He splayed his fingers and appeared to be considering his manicure.

"Ten thousand credits."

"Credits?! Pah!" Vowrawn waved him off. "How provincial. I was thinking along the lines of something more enduring than money."

"Such as?"

"If the beast deems the boy… _unworthy_ …you elevate me to the status of Darth and allow me to return to the capitol where I can resume my game of Dark Council chess…"

"And if I win?"

" _If_ you win, and he truly is the beneficiary and wellspring of Tulak Hord's powers…then I will remain here, in your service as your own personal ritualist but…"

"But…what?"

Vowrawn's mouth spread into a perverse smirk. "You will take the boy as your apprentice and train him as Sith. I do require _some_ entertainment if I am to remain, here…with _you_."

"Have you lost your mind?" Taxon sputtered. "If I ever needed proof you're as mad as a rabid jurgoran, I need look no further."

"It sounds to me like you have doubts…doubt about the boy's connection…and dare I say, doubt in your ability to train an apprentice. To date, you've yet to acquire one, which makes me suspect…how shall I put this delicately? You lack the _skill_ and refinement to teach."

"Any apprentice of mine would be worth ten of yours!"

"Perhaps, perhaps not. But one thing remains clear, a Dark Councillor with no apprentice and a power base reliant on another's wealth, complicity, and knowledge in the arcane arts…could be in danger of losing his seat. Permanently."

"If you move against me, I will release _every_ sordid detail of your schemes and indiscretions…see how long you live then…"

My attention shifted between my captors and I began to understand my role. Vowrawn wanted his freedom, and somehow I was the key.

"Now, now, no need for threats, my dear fellow. I'm only stating the obvious. I, of course, am no match for you. Look at you…clearly, I'm outmatched in _every_ way."

"I would crush you like the depraved slime beetle you are," Taxon snarled.

"Ah, depravity. One of my better qualities, I assure you. Now do we have an agreement?" Vowrawn thrust his hand at his opponent.

Taxon seethed and snatched the proffered hand grudgingly. "Agreed…"

Vowrawn smirked and shook Taxon's meaty hand. "Truly more sporting than juggling thermal detonators. Shall we begin?"

Taxon cocked his head in acquiescence and waved Vowrawn away. "Do as you will, warlock."

Vowrawn twined his fingers and flexed them until they cracked before shifting his attention on me. "I am going to remove your gag and bindings, but one word and I _will_ kill you."

I nodded once and waited for him to strip away the spit soaked rag dividing my mouth and the cuffs at my wrists. I smacked my lips hoping to coax enough moisture to chase the dry bitterness coating my tongue.

Vowrawn lifted a flask filled with clear liquid and drizzled it over my mouth. To my relief, I found it was ordinary water and gulped as much as I could before spitting up the excess.

He waved the censer over me and whisps of sweet black smoke dispersed over the altar, stinging my eyes. The words he read from the ritual scroll came in a rapid jumble—some language I'd never heard before and the runes painted up the sides of my body glowed as orange as live coals and I roared as the marks seared my flesh. Another incantation stole the heat away, but the pale raised scars would forever serve as a reminder of this moment.

Taxon stood on the stone dais looming over the altar. With his bulging arms and hawkish gaze, I was reminded of the brutish gargoyles I'd seen crouching atop several of the older buildings in Kaas City. My lightsaber dangled at his hip and I vowed that one day, I would reclaim it and I would make him suffer for all he'd taken from me. I chastised myself for allowing distraction to claim my attention and fixed my gaze on my dubious ally as he began the ritual. If I was to survive, I would need to remain alert.

Vowrawn reclaimed the ritual dagger, but instead of driving it into me, he carved a rune over my heart and watched as the blood seeped out of the wound to collect in the shallow valley above my abdomen.

He leaned in close to inspect his handiwork and took the opportunity to address me. "Be still…be silent," he breathed.

Vowrawn took his place on the dais next to Taxon and spoke another verse, and I sensed their presence in the Force was somehow diminished…still visible to me…but less so, as if they were camouflaged by the air itself.

The next words Vowrawn spoke, I somehow understood even though they were foreign. "We summon the beast of Noghri Fels!"

The cave quaked and crumbles of gritty stone rained down on me. The accompanying dust coated my skin until it was as red as the chamber rock and I shut my eyes against the debris.

The first thing I saw was a pair of glowing yellow eyes approaching from a darkened alcove in the chamber. The creature crept closer—and while it wasn't the hulking monster I'd expected, I could see the wary intelligence behind its eyes. Smaller than Taxon himself, the beast was entirely hairless, with moist grey skin that appeared dappled in the dim light.

The head was encircled by a rounded bony plate that I first mistook for external brain matter. The creature snuffled and snorted and I could feel its breath puffing over my skin. Its nose was small, barely two slits carved into the moist wrinkled face. I flinched when it sniffed my legs and it snarled, flashing a mouth full of razor sharp teeth. It moved ever higher toward the strips of gauze wrapped about my genitals but refused to linger there when it caught the scent of the fresh blood mark inscribed over my heart.

Beads of sweat gave way to rivulets that collected inside my ears. The creature revelled in the blood, snorting it and lapping it with a rough tongue. Had I not believed its next action would be to dig my heart out and devour it before me, I might have laughed at the sensation, but I didn't dare move, especially given Vowrawn's warning.

When the blood was gone it straightened and scanned the chamber with wary eyes. It smacked its lipless mouth with a forked tongue and let out a heartrending yowl. Again and again, it cried out…there was something plaintive and unsettling about it—like an akk dog mourning a lost master.

The creature whimpered and pawed at my body as if urging me to rise. I held my breath, uncertain if I should attempt to interact with it or remain still. I considered turning my gaze to search Vowrawn's face for a hint, but decided against it—to do so might add fuel to Taxon's already suspicious mind.

I closed my eyes and allowed the beast to nudge me. It mewled again and then laid its head and clawed foot upon my chest. With every passing moment, it seemed the beast somehow recognized me, in what way, I did not know, only that it did. I wanted to respond but didn't dare. My mind raced with possibilities and outcomes and I called out to the darkness for guidance.

 _What do I do? What do I do?_

Then the answer came to me from the blackest depths of thought; _Do what comes naturally...let your instinct guide you._

It was more ambiguous than I would have liked but decided I would obey. I drew on the Force to protect me, and when the beast nudged me again, my fingertips lazed over its back and it met my gaze with enraptured eyes.

The creature stood over me, but as I moved to rise from the altar it shifted to one side, allowing me to move. I sat with my legs dangling off the edge of the altar and extended my hand to it. When the creature dropped its face against my palm and closed its eyes, I looked over at Vowrawn and Taxon.

Vowrawn's expression was one of utter astonishment and he turned to Taxon and extended his hand in concession. "Well played my friend, I bow to your superior gamesmanship…it seems you have just come into possession of the galaxy's finest ritualist _and_ a unique apprentice."

My finger's played over the creature's cheek and a low warble came alive in its throat. It butted its head against my hand, urging my affection and when I rewarded it, it rubbed its chin against my skin, scent marking my hands and knees.

Vowrawn, still camouflaged within the Force, descended from the dais and approached me, careful to remain beyond its sense of smell.

Taxon followed. "Command the beast to the temple entrance… _apprentice_ ," he spat the last so grudgingly he might as well have been spitting out poison.

Vowrawn's single nod implied I should obey.

"Go to the temple…I'll follow," I said.

The Beast of Noghri Fels nuzzled me and took in my scent. Through the dust, sand, and stone, the creature kept its flattened snout pressed to the ground, following some undetectable trail and I followed it, the two Sith behind me still camouflaged within the Force.

We followed the beast over dunes and lakes of rippling sand, well beyond the tent city until it stopped and pawed the ground. It leapt eagerly, yowling and digging until a marker with an ancient seal manifested. I knelt over the spot and swept the sand off the sigil with my fingertips, and blew across it to clear the dusty residue still clinging to it.

"Most impressive. How many teams and how many Sith have spent _lifetimes_ searching for this…" Vowrawn clapped his hands together. He tossed me the ritual dagger. "A sacrifice is required, my boy."

Taking his meaning I cut my palm and dripped my blood into the sigil. Not ten meters before us, the ground rumbled and groaned as two massive slabs pulled apart to reveal a set of stairs. Sand shifted and dribbled into the opening and a blast of cool air raised my skin with goose pimples.

The beast and I raced forward, skipping every other step as we descended into the temple. A choral of whispers rose from the chamber as we approached—a sound my mind welcomed—and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was home. The sinuating darkness coiled around me, unseen, but no less felt and I revelled in the joy of discovery.

The sconces lining the temple roared to life like celebratory fireworks. I crept forward, with the beast at my side, the two Sith nearly forgotten. I roamed further and the dusty red rock gave way to gleaming obsidian columns and massive walls adorned with inky skulls.

A pair of ornate aurodium doors beckoned to me and parted at my approach. Another seal demanded another sacrifice. My blood bought us entry and I strode into the temple with its massive stone altar and holocron filled walls—lifetimes of knowledge. I felt a presence, first near then distant, watching and evaluating me.

I stood in the center of the temple, filthy and clad only in the wrappings girding my loins—a beggar lord finally introduced to his legacy.

I ran my hand along the edge of the altar and at once a flood of images coursed through my mind's eye…generations of men and women joined in carnal acts of creation. I saw my parents and the moment of my own conception, and then that of my own child and my child's child and those that came after. Though they were strangers to me by appearance and name, in that moment, I recognized them all as my kin.

The visions blurred and I felt a presence rise up across from me—a wraith clad in rich armours blacker than the void. "Progeny of Septimus Tacitus…I am Tulak Hord, First Master of the Gathering Darkness and Lord of Hatred…"

I knelt before the spirit. "I'm Ares Marr…and I've been looking for you for a long time, sir."

"Son of my son…" The wraith lifted my chin and stared down at me and I was no longer chilled. "Delivered by my faithful Sithspawn…"

"But how?"

"He can smell blood connections…our bloodline."

My mind was full to brimming with more questions and curiosities, but before I could speak them, the Wraith vanished and then I saw why.

No longer hidden by the Force, Taxon stalked into the chamber, Vowrawn trailing behind him.

"Get up…" Taxon snarled. "I see _nothing_ of value here…I've no use for empty rooms."

"But they're not empty…" I protested, scrambling to my feet. How could he not see the rows upon rows of gleaming colourful holocrons? How could he not feel their power thrumming in the chamber?

Vowrawn eyed me shrewdly but said nothing.

The Sithspawn beast snarled and leapt at Taxon.

"No!" I cried. I saw the next few seconds unfold before they happened but was helpless to stop them.

The familiar growl of the lightsaber I'd owned all too briefly echoed in the chamber, followed by a ghastly yelp and a thud as the beast fell to the floor.

I ran to the creature and threw myself to the floor and cradled its head during its final moments.

The beast twitched and then its body grew slack and still. A moment later it vanished in my arms and I stared up at Taxon and swore in that moment that I would do whatever it took to kill my master.

((To be continued…))

Author's note: When the tomb was discovered I was listening to CheValiers de Sangreal from The DaVinci Code soundtrack and felt it fit well with young Marr's discovery. That piece of music always moves me to tears.


	9. Chapter 9

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Eight~**

 _Promises breed hope, but when they are broken, hope falters._

During the weeks following the ritual, it became evident that Taxon had no intention of teaching me; nor did he plan to kill me. At least not overtly. Instead, I was confined to the meaningless purgatory that was the dig.

I toiled from sunrise until dark. Then came the fights—men tearing each other up like akk dogs for food. Those that couldn't fight learned to scavenge. Those that couldn't scavenge grew weaker until they expired in the sweltering sands. After devouring whatever paltry crumbs I could find, I soaked my hands in watered down kolto, wrapped them and slept.

Each morning, the survivors were rounded up and taken to yet another dig site. My sole attempt to return to the temple nearly killed me. The desert stretched for hundreds of miles in all directions. If not for my blood connections, I've little doubt I would've been forgotten and left to die. There was no escape. The dig was all there was.

Every day was the same. I would plunge my shovel into the boiling sand, fill it and cast aside its contents. The hole would collapse and refill. I would begin again. Each time I sank the shovel into the sand was a beginning, and for a few fleeting moments, there was hope, that I would find something under the barren sands that would lead me back to my legacy.

There were treasures to be found, but they came in the form of lizard eggs and occasionally the lizards themselves. Looking back, I realize these meager findings were, in fact, the treasures I so desperately sought, but at the time, I lacked the perception to see beyond hunger and fatigue. I learned hope dies slowly, but it _does_ die.

The temple with its glittering holocrons was a distant dream now, as was the lordly wraith I'd met—the fount to generations of sons of which I was the last. Time tampers with memory until the truth no long seems real. The sithspawn beast I'd mourned had vanished in my arms. My foppish mercurial ally had disappeared as well. How could any of it been real? Perhaps it had been madness all along. Even the guiding voice in my mind had fallen quiet.

The sun turned my flesh to leather—dark and stretched tight over the hardened masses of flesh girding my arms, shoulders, and legs. I stood at least a head taller than my peers. I no longer recognized myself. My time as a scavenger came to an end and I became a fighter—one that few wished to challenge. I tore into the meat I'd won—vicious, wary, and as unrepentant as a wild animal.

I allowed myself to exist in the mind-numbing simplicity that came with the dig. Before long, all that mattered was the shovel. It was a friend, workmate, confidant and weapon. I had nothing to say and the shovel took no offense. It was content in my silence, just as I was. It understood me. It was _mine_ and woe to anyone who sought to borrow it or take it outright.

Every life requires meaning, even if that meaning is as lowly as a well-used shovel. At night I obsessed over it, polishing the durasteel and sharpening the spade edge to a razor's precision. The shovel lay at my side in bed and I kept my hand on it even as I slept.

The mania followed me into my dreams and I woke gasping and horrified when I dreamt the shovel was my partner on Tulak Hord's fertility altar—but with that dream came the realization that I was stuck in an ever-deepening hole, so deep, the sky was a distant light at the end of the growing darkness. The light shrank to a pinhole, along with my hopes of becoming Sith.

Apathy had taken root. I saw no way out of the rut I'd settled into. The dream was an alarm—a call to action—one I would answer even if it killed me. Death wasn't my enemy. I cursed my own complacency and the dwindling spark in me kindled and flared into a blaze.

If I were to become Sith, I would have to do so by my own merit. There was no fate or destiny. I even began to question the Force. And then, as if it were mocking my resolve, I heard a familiar voice outside my tent—a refined voice—one I hadn't heard in almost seven years. Vowrawn.

"Gentlemen…tell me, where do I find Ares Marr?"

"Two tents over, my Lord…he's with his _wife_ ," the foreman snorted.

"W-Wife?" Vowrawn stammered incredulously.

"His _shovel_ …bet he kisses it goodnight," one of the men chimed in.

"Given the sounds coming out of his tent at night, bet he does more than that," another howled.

The workmen laughed, Vowrawn laughed, and then the camp flashed purple with the static hiss of lightning and no one laughed.

I stood the shovel against the side of my bed, just as Vowrawn pushed through the tent flaps.

"Sons of the Emperor! Marr? Is that really you, m'boy?" He spread his arms wide as if offering an embrace.

My hand opened and closed and I felt a surge of anger. "Where the hell have you been?" I hadn't heard my own voice in so long its depth and timbre shocked me.

"I must apologize for my seeming abandonment…It wasn't intentional."

"Seven years and not a word?" My fingers curled around the shovel's shaft and I drew it to my side like a staff. "Give me one reason I shouldn't bludgeon you where you stand!"

"Your anger is understandable." His gaze fell on the shovel and he licked his lips, no doubt trying to decide if I was capable of backing up my threat.

Vowrawn held his hands up and patted the air as if calming a wild animal. "I assure you I did all I could. Taxon made it nigh impossible to find you."

"Spare me your excuses!" I snarled through clenched teeth. "Nothing is impossible for _you,_ " I swore and hurled the shovel at him.

He ducked, narrowly avoiding impact. "Were I in your shoes, I too would be quite upset, but I promise you, m'boy, I did all I could. There was a time I believed he'd killed you in secret."

"Upset? Upset!?" I punched the tent pole hard enough to dent the durasteel and Vowrawn cringed. "Upset doesn't cover it. You left me here to rot. What do you want, Vowrawn? Why else would you be here _now_?"

"Suffice it to say the new quartermaster is more amenable to bribery…the old one, met with an unfortunate end if you take my meaning."

I folded my arms and glared at him as if he were an insect with pearly white teeth.

"Taxon has only grown more paranoid with time. When I discovered you were still alive, I came to realize that Taxon would never be careless where you're concerned. He knows your every move as well as his own. He controls every detail of your life, my friend. I've come to set you free."

"You're wearing my patience." My fingers rolled over my bicep. "You expect me to believe _anything_ you say…" I shook my head and turned my back to him. "It took you almost seven years to kill a quartermaster and bribe a new one."

"There is somewhat more to it, I assure you, but that is the gist of it. I will say _this_ , the dig has turned you surly, my friend."

I stayed his words with a stab of my index finger. "We're not friends. Let us be clear on that point."

"I prefer friends, but _ally_ will do, m'boy. The anger you've cultivated through the dig is quite stunning to behold."

"It wasn't just the dig…it was the fighting pits. Only the victors ate. We were treated worse than dogs."

Vowrawn looked up at me. "You've grown into quite the strapping young man. From the size of you, I'd say you triumphed often."

"I learned to live off insects…lizards…snakes. Whatever I could kill with my shovel. I'd find clutches of eggs in the sand and ate them too."

"The first time I set eyes on you, I _knew_ you were a survivor, Marr."

"All I've _done_ is survive."

"What if I told you, that I'm here to teach you how to _live_?"

"I'd have my doubts." I stalked across the tent and reclaimed my shovel.

"But you _will_ hear me out I trust…"

"It costs nothing to listen. Say what you came to say, I don't have all night."

"We are going to lull Taxon into a false sense of security."

"And how are _we_ going to do that?"

"With your death."

"My death…" I raised a brow and stared at him matter-of-factly. I didn't know if I should laugh or beat him to death. "Taxon will demand a corpse…he won't believe otherwise."

"Already taken care of, my friend. I'm not without connections. I happen to be well acquainted with the galaxy's most talented identity forger—a young Anomid named A'tol Dretcher."

"An alien…and you trust him?" I frowned.

"No more than I trust anyone else," Vowrawn quipped. A playful glint turned his eyes to rubies and he reminded me of a rodent. "Aliens have their uses and we would be fools not to take advantage."

"I suppose, I can see the wisdom in that," I conceded. "Then what? Assuming Taxon doesn't kill you."

"The best games have the element of risk. That's what makes it exciting. After your untimely death, you will be free to become Sith."

"How? If I return to the Academy, he'll know."

"Oh no m'boy. You'll be resuming your studies _here_. You see I haven't forgotten what you said. The temple… _isn't_ empty, but I suspect only you can access whatever it is you saw. It took me some doing, but I've arranged for all your comforts—food…supplies…a _slave_. Even an instructor."

"I don't _need_ a slave," I barked.

"Never underestimate the value of a good slave. Nights can be cold in the desert."

I waved him off and frowned. "Who's the instructor?"

"An old friend of yours—Lord Silthar."

I turned around slowly. "You brought Silthar… _here_ …"

"He's quite gifted with holocrons—"

"Do you think me a fool, Vowrawn? Did you think I wouldn't figure out what you've been doing all this time?"

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage…prey tell me… _what_ have I been up to?"

"When I said the tomb wasn't empty…Taxon didn't believe me…but _you_ did. You brought Silthar here in the hopes of claiming the contents of the temple for yourself. Between your rituals and his knowledge of antiquities, you thought you'd take it all, didn't you? It's only when you realized you needed me, that I became central to your plans again."

Vowrawn sighed. "M'boy…you've been central to my plans for a long time."

"You need Taxon dead…but you can't kill him yourself. You've been biding your time…you _need_ me."

"It seems that for whatever reason, I can't keep plans secret from you. How refreshing. You'll be a splendid ally…knowing me as you do."

"There's more to this, Vowrawn…Taxon has something on you that keeps you under his thumb. You're a slave to him as much as I am."

"It would appear that the sun hasn't dulled your mind after all. There would be no sense in denying it. Now that I'm transparent before you…I trust you will take me up on my offer?"

I took a long look around the tent, and then at the shovel in my hands. "We have an agreement."

Vowrawn clapped like a spoiled child on Life Day. "Wonderful. We mustn't tarry. Come."

We emerged from the tent, and I took a long look around the camp. The sun resembled a half yoke on the horizon and the sky consisted of ribbons of colour. Bodies lay strewn haphazardly through the camp, their eyes charred open. Vowrawn had been confident of what my response would be.

"You won't be needing _that_ anymore," Vowrawn nodded at my shovel as he slid into the driver's side of his Korrealis speeder.

I considered the shovel for a long time but kept it at my side when I slid in next to Vowrawn.

"Say goodbye to your old life my friend…"

He fired up the speeder and swung it around the camp in a wide arc and then he depressed the detonator remote he'd concealed in his hand.

Fans of sand and stone shot up from the grounds surrounding the camp. The tents imploded on themselves as a great sinkhole opened beneath them. The desert swallowed most of the camp whole, and as we veered in for one last look, a large body furthest from the sunken camp could have doubled as my own.

Vowrawn snatched my shovel and hurled it out of the speeder. It rolled and landed next to the forged corpse. "Forgive me my friend, but we're striving for authenticity. It was necessary to dispose of it."

I glared at Vowrawn. "Pray, you're not next."

((to be continued…))


	10. Chapter 10

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Nine~**

 _At the end, we understand the desires that drove our folly and fuelled our actions._

Thousands of days comprise a lifetime, but of those days, how many of them mold us into who we become? Five? Ten? Twenty?

The answer is different for all of us. The first time I entered the tomb of Tulak Hord, I was a boy, awed by the presence I'd searched for since I was old enough to understand the need to find it. I did not expect it to change me, but that day, I died and was reborn.

Seven years later, a new man would return in the boy's place. I would descend into the temple again, but this time, I was tempered by brutal hardship and armed with the knowledge I could survive it. Awe had been replaced by caution and once again I believed I would remain unchanged. I was wrong. The change would be gradual and insidious, but it would come.

Inside the temple, shadows gathered to form the wraith lord that would become my master. He rose up from the floor, inky and terrible, but with a voice that would command and seduce legions. "Ares, you've returned."

"It was never my choice to leave."

"No. It was mine."

"Yours? Why? Why would you allow me to be sent away?"

"You _dare_ question my will, _mortal_?"

"Is your will so fragile that my question would break it? I would know your motivations, _spirit_. Answer me."

"A spirit…" Hord chuckled. "Is _that_ what you think? You're a demanding mortal, Ares…but where was your bravado then? Taxon has no power over you. He never did and yet you remained, toiling for him like an akk dog…"

"You _knew_ …"

"Of course, I knew…I've watched you since birth…guided you, molded you. There is no fate, only _my_ will." Tulak Hord drifted closer to the brazier in the corner of the chamber, the flames bursting to life like a nova at his proximity. He stared into them and became a mix of ethereal shadow and light.

"Fascinating…" The wraith murmured, his attention fixed on the fire. He reached forth and caressed the flames almost affectionately.

I strode closer to the brazier and stared into them. "What is?"

"The outcome…do you see?"

"Speak plainly. I don't appreciate riddles. The outcome of what?"

"See for yourself…" Hord indicated the fire with an upturned palm.

I stared into the brazier and possibilities began to form but before I could make sense of them, they were gone. All that remained was a mirage with my eyes staring back at me.

"You wish to become Sith…"

I nodded.

"At what cost? What would you offer me, if I were to teach you to become the greatest Sith lord of your generation?"

"What is it you want?"

"I see you understand…desire is the currency of all men. Learn their desires…and you will own them."

"Not _all_ men…" I folded my arms and held my ground.

"See those walls? Every one of them sold themselves to me for a favor."

"My father did not…my mother did not."

"So certain, are you?"

I stood silent, but couldn't hide my doubt.

"You're not as confident as you would have me believe."

"Enough of your games! There are two outcomes…you will train me…or you won't. But I will not be duped into some foul purchase."

"That is where you are mistaken, Ares. The outcomes are only limited by your sight. You want to know the truth…you want to know if they arehere…admit it."

"They are dead…a fact I've accepted long ago." I turned my back to the wraith, and though I tried to avoid the macabre black skulls lining the walls, they were inescapable. Their hollow sockets stared back at me and the questions I dared not ask germinated in the back of my mind.

"If you won't ask…I will tell you. What could they desire, so greatly, that they would give themselves to me without a second thought? I _know_ you're curious…"

"Is this another of your trials? I'm losing patience. Had I known what you were, and what your name meant, I'd have _never_ sought you out."

"Have you never wondered why you were the only one?"

"Their time together was short. I expected a Sith Lord, wise beyond imagining, not some _trickster_ …"

"And I had hoped for someone rather more malleable…"

"You hoped for a fool you could manipulate—another empty skull for your wall. I will afford you no such indulgence."

Tulak Hord chuckled, the sound low and sinister through his mask. "Your father wanted a son—noble and worthy of his legacy. He was _incapable_ of fathering one…so _I_ created you. Right here on this altar. And your mother…your dear fallen Jedi mother— beautiful, tarnished—but ambitious. She wanted you to be more than mere Sith—perhaps Emperor—but I see that isn't for _you_."

"You would force your own blood descendants to sell themselves to you for these favours? What foul corruption would make such damning barters with their own kin?"

"Clearly, _you_ will not…"

"Never. I will form no pact with you…"

"Then how will you become Sith?"

"By my reasoning, if what you say is true, my mother has already secured my future as one. Only a Sith can ascend to the Dark Council or beyond it."

"I see you're not one to easily deal away that which you value. Most can't see beyond their desires. I will be your Master."

"I will achieve my goals _without_ your foul magick or interference."

"Lilin…come forth…" Tulak Hord said, his voice barely a whisper.

A pale silver light grew behind me, swelling until the chamber was as bright and cool as a glacier. "Master…what do you desire of me?"

I froze, as surely as if my blood had crystalized. _Mother_. I remembered her voice as a distant echo, filtered through flesh and birth waters, but to hear it, as clear and distinct as if she lived, affected me.

"Lilin—your son, a man grown…Ares…your mother."

I hesitated to face her. Fingers curled about my elbow, imploring me to turn around. Her touch sank into my flesh and I sensed the frosty grip of the darkness take hold.

"Ares…will you not look at me?"

My jaw clenched. "Why…why do you do this? And why do I remain here…enduring it?"

I tore free of her touch, ready to abandon the chamber and Dromund Fels for good, but in doing so I came face to face with her. Small and frail, her spirit looked as if it were spun from spider silk and her eyes held the unnatural cast of hematites bathed in blood.

"Ares…please. Let me look at you…"

"I won't stop you…but if this is some trick…" I glared at Tulak Hord and flexed my hand at my side.

"It's no trick…" He said even though I turned from him before he answered.

The chamber had grown so cold that I could see my breath cloud around my face, but the longer I was exposed to it, the less it affected me. The cold and darkness became a part of me…or perhaps more aptly, I became a part of _it_.

"Is it true…You and my fath—Lord Tacitus are bound to _him_?"

"It's true Ares. And we would do so again, we have no regrets."

"If _he_ made me…is Tacitus even my father?"

"You are truly your father's son, in _every_ way…"

"The ambiguity of your answer is both telling and troubling, _Mother_." I ran my hand over my jaw and dropped my gaze to the floor, unable to bear looking into her eyes.

"I want so much for you, Ares… _please_ …become who you were meant to be."

"Don't you mean, who _you_ want me to be?"

"My son, I would rather you be the power than the one seeking its favour. My desire is that you become _more_ than Sith—subjugate others, bend them to your will. That is what I wanted for you, above all things…would you deny me?"

I sighed and sat heavily upon the altar, my hands dangling between my knees. "I don't know what you want me to say, Mother…" I raked my hands through my hair and growled my frustration.

"I want you to accept…take the boon. Become the Master of the Gathering Darkness and the Lord of Hate…then you will be our Master's equal."

I stood and crossed the room to stand before the brazier, searching the flames for an answer. What would it mean if I accepted…what would my life become?

The flames twisted and coiled to make their revelations to me.

I would not be seduced by the darkness; instead, I would become the darkness. I would be its Master and it would be mine to control. I would enjoy its trappings—the knowledge of he who had subjugated it before me—and the servitude of those who sought its favour then and forevermore. Wielding such power wasn't to be taken lightly and I swore to devote myself to nurturing the wisdom to control it and summon it only when necessary. At that moment, I caught myself and realized I had already agreed.

Casual reliance on the darkness was a temptation that came with a price—with every invocation, a fraction of that which made me human would be irrevocably lost, but for all that I stood to achieve it seemed a price worth paying.

I turned to face the spirits. "Before I answer I must know one thing…"

Tulak Hord nodded and indicated I continue with an upturned palm.

"If I become your equal…then it would be within my power to release my parents from servitude, with no repercussions?"

"It would be within your right, yes."

"Very well…then I will become more than Sith—a Master of the Gathering Darkness and a Lord of Hate. I accept what my Mother wanted for me."

She beamed up at me, and when she took my hands, I no longer felt the cold. "When I am his equal, I will release you and my father."

"Will you not give us the choice to stay with you?"

"No. You will have no choice, as I had no choice. You paid a price to this _demon_ , and here I am, the manifestation of your desires. Do not make presumptions about my favour. Now go. I won't call on you again until the day I release you."

"If that is still your judgement when the time comes…"

"It will be."

The silver light surrounding her spirit diminished and she along with it until I was left alone with Tulak Hord.

"You surprised me…I didn't anticipate your reaction to her or the knowledge she brought you…" He said.

"I don't care to discuss this further. Tell me what I must do to begin…and then leave me."

"You deign to command _me_?"

"It's not as if you can challenge me…the deal has been wrought."

"I could smite you where you stand."

"But you won't for two reasons. I suspect there is a penalty if a bargain is broken after you've made it, and perhaps you didn't realize…I watched you when you looked into the flames. You betrayed something of yourself in that moment. You coveted something, and I sense it belongs to me. Perhaps one day, it will be _you_ who will sell yourself to _me_ for that which you desire."

"You're too arrogant, Ares."

"You'll find I learn quickly."

* * *

By day, I immersed myself in my studies, each holocron a trove of ancient history, ritual and saber technique. At night I would leave the temple and return to the makeshift home Vowrawn had prepared for me—an elaborate mansion of tents hidden deep within a series of caves.

Silthar and I would dine together each night and discuss the histories I'd come across during my study of the holocrons I'd inherited and in turn he would instruct me in some of the more mundane skills any educated Sith lord would require.

Occasionally we would practice saber techniques, but I quickly learned that he was more scholar than duellist and while a good sport, he was a poor challenger.

Vowrawn proved to be more adept with a lightsaber than Silthar and had a talent with Force lightning as well—one I hoped to eclipse. He would join us for supper several times a week and after we ate, we would spar. I learned it was a rare Sith that was accomplished at both lightsaber technique and Force lightning, and I was determined to excel at it.

"Marr, your skills as a duellist are developing exponentially. I must say I'm impressed. But then it is a known fact that few duellists could match the skill of Tulak Hord or the old masters." He dabbed his face with a dry towel and proceeded to recline in one of the comfortable chairs, like a contented lazy cat while I trained.

Despite my protests, he'd bought a sleek and exotic blue skinned Twi'lek slave girl to dote on us. He crooked a finger and within moments she placed an elaborate cocktail in his waiting hand.

"Sons of the Emperor, Marr. Stop abusing that training droid and have a drink with me."

I sighed heavily and retracted my training saber. "If you insist…"

The slave set my drink on the small table between the recliners and I snatched it up and downed it in one draught. She giggled coyly and scurried off, bangles and charms jingling.

"So, Marr…how have you been enjoying my gift to you?"

"To which gift are you referring?"

He clacked his tongue in mock annoyance. "Meekra…the girl that was just here…"

"Is that her name? I hadn't asked…it's not as if I speak to her."

"Speaking is optional but recommended…I was rather hoping you'd have made use of her. She's quite attractive…"

"She's an attentive servant…"

No sooner had I finished praising her, the Twi'lek reappeared with another tray of drinks.

Vowrawn clapped his hands. "Meekra dear, why don't you dance for us…there are no dancers quite like Twi'lek dancers in _all_ the galaxy…"

"I think I can do without—"

Vowrawn cut me off. "Drink up, Marr. And enjoy the view. I assure you, it's quite hypnotic. Think of it as an outlet…every man needs an outlet."

"If you insist…" I downed the second drink and resigned myself to watching the dancer gyrate and slither before me, and though I would never admit it to Vowrawn, the girl's movements awakened a dangerous hunger I hadn't acknowledged before.

"I think my work here is done…enjoy your evening, Marr."

Riveted by the girl's undulating belly and hips, I waved Vowrawn away with only the slightest acknowledgement.

With the barest summons, I drew her to me and I discovered the darkness is many things—a star-filled sky; the fading ember; an eclipse. It is a sharpening of the senses and the birthplace of dreams. It is freedom and a prison with no bars. It is corruption and desire, desolation and despair, and most of all, it is damnation to all who touch it and a curse to anyone foolish enough to love it.

((to be continued…))


	11. Chapter 11

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Ten~**

 _Once the darkness becomes a part of you, there's no room for anything else._

"Every moment of my life has in one way or another led me here, Vowrawn." I waved away his offering—a premium Stygian Cognac—one of fifty bottles left in the galaxy.

"I must say, you're far more disciplined than I am, Marr. These last five years—you've denied yourself almost every luxury I've offered—a rainbow of beautiful slaves; fine drink; expensive smoke, a feather bed…every nicety a man could hope for. I don't know how you do it. _Especially_ the feather bed."

I chuckled. "You're aware as well as I am, I'm no saint. Your temptations have caused a few momentary lapses in judgement over the years."

"The very proof I needed or I might have come to suspect you're not quite like the rest of us. But to deny yourself a celebratory libation on your twenty-first birthday…I think that's a bit extreme."

"I'll celebrate when my trial is over."

"I will hold you to that, my friend." He examined the bottle, his gaze seemingly fixed on the shimmering amber-rose liquid trapped inside. "I can barely contain myself when I imagine the look on Taxon's face, the moment he learns you're still alive…"

"You never did tell me how he reacted to my demise."

"Oh…" Vowrawn snickered. "He was livid, of course. I still have the scars to prove it. If ever there was a day, I thought I'd been checkmated—that was the one. I was probably a tad more reckless than I ought to have been, but as I've said, no risk, no joy—it's what makes the game worth playing."

"Is _everything_ a game to you, Vowrawn?"

"Of course. Life is nothing but a series of games…finance, power, knowledge, women…there are only two outcomes…you win or you lose."

"I believe that to be an over simplified view…"

"Marr, Marr, Marr, my dear fellow—you over-complicate things. Twenty-one years young and you think like—well, like a fifty-year-old man. I shudder to think what you'll be like in another twenty years. Life is not out to get you…"

"Of course, it is. We're Sith."

Vowrawn laughed. "There are times I can't tell if you're serious or not."

"I have the distinct impression there is far more at stake, then you've led me to believe. What hold does Taxon have over you?"

"Your questions are nearly as pointed as that armour you wear. I'm still at a loss as to why you'd deny yourself the comfort of Corellian silk, in favour of that… _monstrosity_ you commissioned."

"The armour serves its purpose."

"You remind me of that Sithspawn beast in the ritual chamber just after we'd met. Do you remember?"

"Of course, I remember." I folded my arms and stared down at him, amused that he couldn't read my face—an advantage I decided was worth keeping. "What I fail to understand, is why you stayed all these years. Taxon didn't honour his end of the wager and yet you remained in his service."

"I suppose you wouldn't believe that I stayed solely for _your_ benefit…"

"Vowrawn…" My voice was a warning growl and my hands curled into fists by my sides.

"I see you're not going to let this go," Vowrawn crossed his arms and the jovial twinkle in his eyes grew canny. "Very well…I suppose I owe you that much. There is something _far_ more powerful than the Force."

"And what would that be?"

"The fact that you have to ask tells me you've been remiss in your observations of me."

"Quit stalling!"

"This is a lesson you would be wise to learn, Marr. Commerce is the true power in the galaxy and money is the language it speaks. The Hutts understand it…the Black Sun understands it, the Exchange, information brokers, mercenaries, smugglers, bounty hunters, the entire underworld—they all understand it. And when one becomes…how shall I phrase this… _fluent_ in the language, one is capable of influencing events across the galaxy—whether for profit or amusement it matters not."

"You're a _criminal_ …Taxon _knows_ this."

"The word _criminal_ doesn't quite capture the scope or magnitude of what it is I do, Marr—I dare say it's something of an understatement."

"That would explain your access to all the women and contraband…"

"You sound almost shocked, Marr. I hadn't taken you for such a puritan. The brothels are only a tiny fraction of my holdings…"

"How is it you're not in prison?"

"Haven't you been listening? Money will buy _anything_. Not to mention I own controlling interest in several key industries—the CEC, Czerka, Balmorran Arms, Koensayr to name a few…and then there are the shipyards and the mines…forty-three of them at last count. My resources are nearly inexhaustible—and once the war resumes, my investments will yield obscene returns."

"You have _all_ that and can't deal with Taxon yourself?"

"Where's the sport in _that_? It's not as if I'm suffering here, and there are things I stand to gain…things that would legitimize my station among the Sith and in the Empire."

"You've wasted years of your life pinning your hopes on _me_ …"

"I enjoy good sport, Marr. Can you imagine the look on Taxon's face when you defeat him? A boy he has struggled to thwart since birth?"

"You want Taxon's seat on the Dark Council…"

"Who in their right mind would turn down a seat on the Dark Council? But truthfully Marr…it's not Taxon's seat I desire. While Defense of the Empire would be of vital concern to me, it wouldn't be my focus. My choice of seat would be a start…but it would be a mere stepping stone."

"Surely you don't intend to supplant the Emperor…"

Vowrawn waved me off. "The pinnacle of power, while lofty, is not the most secure position. There's always some pesky individual looking to push you off—but it is an alluring dream."

"You contradict yourself with this talk of stability and security—what of your love of gaming?"

"Oh, I'd still be playing, but of course, the stakes would be higher…and no game is so well played as from a comfortable chair with a good view of the room. Don't be so scandalized Marr…would you not claim the throne if it were within your reach?"

"No…I've no need of it."

"Think of all you could achieve…"

"I will not waste my time coveting a station beyond my reach or intention."

"You sell yourself short, Marr."

"No. I do not. A wise man practices restraint. Only a fool chases after possibilities and ignores the present."

"But as Emperor—"

"Enough. You're nearly as calculating as that wretched demon I call master. I sense there is still much you're withholding, but I don't have time for this. My trial awaits."

"Far be it for me to keep you. Best of luck, Marr. The cognac and I will be awaiting your triumphant return."

* * *

A fog of frigid vapour met me as I descended the steps leading into Hord's temple. The sconces blazed with a pale blue fire and the same blue flames licked up from the seals carved into the floor, parting just enough to allow me passage into the depths of the temple.

Frost formed over the altar and the skull-lined walls like a white mould. Tulak Hord stood in the corner of the chamber. The same blue fire I'd seen on my way in, blazed through the eye sockets of his helmet.

"Progeny of Tacitus…you would be wise to be more selective when choosing friends."

"I have no friends here," I whispered.

"Sith have no friends _anywhere_. Everyone conceals a knife…the only difference is the motivation that will move them to strike. Betrayal is as pervasive as air."

"Spare me these fledgling platitudes. I understood long ago that we are damned never to know the bond of friendship or love—but loyalty _can_ be earned and must be rewarded."

"You think so?" Tulak Hord laughed.

"I _know_ —without a doubt. Were it not for the loyalty my parents swore to Lord Tacitus, I would not be standing here now. They did not betray him, _they_ were loyal unto the end."

"Ares, loyalty is an illusion. Wives betray, husbands betray, children betray. Slaves, masters, and apprentices betray. Friends betray. You will come to see this…in time."

"I will prove you wrong."

"Hah! If the day comes when you can make such a boast—that there is one who never betrayed you, _I_ will grant you a boon."

"You expect me to believe you had no alliances…"

"I _had_ two to speak of…perhaps one day I will tell you the story of my general and my dashade—both were effective, but neither was to be trusted."

My gaze wandered past my Master and settled on a blue flame column jutting from the floor with tree-like roots. Suspended over the column was a lightsaber and perhaps the most magnificent weapon I had ever seen.

The ebony hilt was smooth and dark, and I sensed the grip was enchanted with blood memory—the weapon would recognize our bloodline through the Force. A trio of sharp metal talons protruded from the blade emitter and I found myself tempted by the weapon more surely than any of Vowrawn's seductive offerings.

Hord turned toward the weapon. "You _want_ this…"

"Yours, I trust?"

"An extension of myself…my truest ally in life and death." The lightsaber vanished from its resting place and reappeared in Hord's ghostly hand. Blazing red plasma kindled in his fist and the weapon growled to life. "Your trial—take my lightsaber… _if_ you can."

"It shall be mine."

"Draw your weapon, Ares. This is our playground…let us make use of it," Hord commanded.

The weapon I'd constructed sprang into my palm at the speed of thought and came alive.

The chamber walls faded at my master's whim, giving way to plumes of ebon smoke. Hord vanished. I strode forward and emerged onto a battlefield. The stench of burning flesh and ruptured explosive casings assaulted my senses. Smoke breached my mask, the insidious tendrils stinging my eyes.

I did not recognize the world before me, or even the timespan. It could have been past or future, or some distant now few were aware of. All I needed to understand was that a war raged and we were the balance that would dictate the winner. The reasons for their fight did not matter, nor did their politics. All that mattered was the power of their fading lives and my need to claim the weapon in my opponent's hand.

Hord appeared before me and bowed. I mirrored his respect and then our blades clashed with fury and preternatural zeal. We wove through the embattled troops like shadows, advancing and ebbing like a tide. Those that interfered or impeded our dance were cut down, swiftly and without mercy. I came to understand that they did not see us—we warred on the cusp of reality and the Force. We moved through them like reapers—shadows caught in the corner of their eyes before they fell.

The power of the dying blazed all around me but I felt their resistance. Back and forth we clashed, time irrelevant to our waltz. At the top of what I thought was a hill, I paused to take stock, to steal a breath, and it was at this moment, I realized it was no mere hill, but a mound of bodies we had created in our ferocity. I stood at the center of it all, and from my vantage point, I saw that there was not only one mound but many—between us we had obliterated a world.

The dying reached every direction and horizon I faced. Their last breaths, their pleas, and their prayers called to me, the influx of voices dizzying. Something within me flickered and grew dimmer, and I recognized the sensation of my disintegrating humanity.

My heart quickened and I felt sick, but I could not let him win—to do so would mean my end. Heartbeats, so many and so varied shook the field like a ground quake. I sensed the light in their minds beckoning them away from this coil and I understood what I had to do. The flutter grew to a rivulet and the rivulet became a creek. Humanity poured out of me and for the briefest moment I was tempted to chase it and run screaming from the abomination I was becoming.

I fought the temptation to run. I had to win. I had to turn them from the light. My salvation, my victory depended on it. This was what I had to do to become Sith, like my father before me. I drew in their power and I became the darkness.

With the promise that their last desires would be fulfilled, they abandoned the light, traversing the field as an infernal fog made of men, crawling on their bellies toward me. I drew the last remnants of their lives into me and gasped at the heady rush of power that followed. I laughed and I felt nauseated in the same moment. The victory would cost me, but I would not be deterred. I was beyond salvation.

Hord slashed at me and I narrowly escaped his advance. "You're wavering. Your regret will cost you. Do not mourn what you were, embrace what you will become." Our sabers crossed and gnashed. "Enslave them. Be quick about it. Feel them become a part of you, Ares."

I marvelled at the gossamer-thin cloak of swirling blackened skulls clinging to me. Their lives registered as mere flickers before joining the greater tapestry of power eddying around me.

The dance began again, blades slashing and snapping like starving tukata, and the hunger I'd felt in the desert kindled in me and I drove myself against Hord with all that I was.

He responded in kind and the tide turned. Slash after slash, I felt my energy dissipate. I'd exhausted all that I'd taken and was forced to rely on what little of my own strength I had left.

I tumbled down an incline and my weapon disappeared into the bodies. I lay prone on the field, the smell of blood thick around me. I rolled over and a black shadow descended, hurtling faster and closer until I was certain it would strike me. The saber I coveted snarled above me, hungry for my life, all too willing to impale me. I had nothing left.

I thrust my hand upwards to shield myself from the incoming blow. Though I feared it would make no difference, I summoned my lightning. It coiled my arm like a serpent and stayed the blow. Hord vanished again.

The saber I'd lost responded to my call and clashed against my palm. I sliced at the air like a madman.

The wind howled and the skies opened. Flood rains filled the spaces between the mounds to shift the dead. My footing became unstable and my balance precarious. I slashed, again and again, I knew he was close to me, but I could not rely on my sight alone. The darkness rushed around me and filled the battlefield with night. Confusion seized my senses and I lost my bearings. I felt light.

Had I lost the trial? I couldn't be dead. The wild beat under my ribs reminded me I lived—this day marked the twenty-first anniversary of my birth. I clung to the instinct that drove me as a newborn. I had to survive. I thought of my parents—those who'd raised me and those whose blood roiled in my veins. "Help me…" I pleaded. A sensation of renewed strength flared inside me and I recognized the faith my adoptive parents had in me.

Hord's laughter rang out. "You're weak—relying on them…as if they'll come to you. What did I tell you about loyalty and blood! Fool!"

"No…it is _you_ that is the fool!" I threw my hands out, the blue lightning I somehow recognized as my father's power, manifested in a great jagged ball of light, enough to blind the wraith and reveal his position. He raised his saber to block the incoming deluge of electricity and I hurled my saber toward him.

Hord's lightsaber fell to the ground, still locked within his severed hand. I reached out with the Force as the lightning threw back his body and I snatched my prize.

"It's over!" I ignited the spoils of my victory and slashed the air before me. The scarlet blade growled deep—its timbre having deepened to reflect my mastery over it.

The dim gossamer outline of my blood family appeared before me. My father extended his hand to me and I accepted.

"No father could ever be more proud than I am at his moment.…"

"Thank you…Father…Mother. I am his equal now and I release you both from this darkness."

"There is only the Force," my Mother murmured before they vanished hand in hand.

I strode toward my master and offered my hand to help him up, but he refused it. He rose and the shadows carried his severed arm to him and he became whole again.

"Your training is complete, Ares…you are—a Lord of Hate and Master over the Gathering Darkness."

"Thank you, Master."

"But you are _not_ my equal. You do not offer your arm to your opponent when they lay vulnerable to you…you strike them down."

"It's not as if I could kill that which is already dead. Know this…I am at the very least your equal…if not your better."

"Does your arrogance know no bounds, Ares?"

I laughed. "You taught me…well. I take my leave of you… _brother_."

The dark fog dissipated and I found myself standing alone in the temple. I marvelled at the weapon I had claimed and strode up the steps leading outside to the desert, two at a time, but I sensed I was far from alone.

Twelve legions of Imperial troopers stood before me, weapons locked, and a legion of red armored guards held Vowrawn and Silthar in stun cuffs.

"Congratulations my friend…I see you survived your trial…" Vowrawn called out jovially.

"What's the meaning of this?"

"Stop right there. By Order of the Dark Council and Darth Taxon…Ares Marr, you are under arrest."

((to be continued…))


	12. Chapter 12

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Eleven~**

 _Justice is determined by a perfect measure of truth and bias._

I whirled on the arresting guard. "On what charges? Identify yourself."

"General Nesor Kayin, Imperial Guard. I was sent on behalf of Darth Taxon and Darth Caliginus of the Dark Council to see to your arrest. Ares Marr, you have been charged with apostasy, blasphemy, and augury."

Before I could respond, Vowrawn laughed. "Apostasy…augury! How grand! Silthar and I are only _mere_ heretics."

"For once in your life, Vowrawn—shut up! This is no laughing matter. I've renounced nothing and I am no soothsayer. I am Sith."

Silthar said nothing, but his furrowed brow and pursed lips suggested he was fast at work calculating his options. On the other hand, Vowrawn preened with the imperious confidence of an alpha varactyl basking on a sun-warmed rock. The unapologetic gleam in his eyes coupled with the brilliance of his smile only served to confirm my suspicion; the bastard was enjoying himself.

"Taxon claims otherwise. This is a matter for the Dark Council. I am charged with bringing you and your disciples before them and you _will_ comply."

"They are _not_ my disciples!" My hand flexed around the grip of the lightsaber I'd won moments ago. "I will _not_ submit—not to you, nor anyone else."

"You dare resist the Imperial guard?" Kayin snapped and initiated his tech staff.

My thumb twitched over the lightsaber's activator and Vowrawn inserted himself between us to stay my hand. He jerked his head, his gaze cautious and complicit. "Perhaps it's for the best, Marr. The pieces are at last, in play. Let the game unfold."

I glared at him as if he'd suddenly sprouted another head and a new suspicion germinated in my mind. The timing of the arrest was suspect. Dispatching our captors was not beyond my ability, but if I did, I would be declared a fugitive, and confronting Taxon before the Dark Council was fundamental to my advancement.

The arrest would serve to hasten the inevitable confrontation. Though he sported a façade of jovial recklessness, Vowrawn was, without a doubt, the most cunning and shrewd man I'd ever met. While my every instinct railed against surrender, it seemed the logical next step.

"I suggest you heed your collaborator, Marr," General Kayin warned.

"He is _not_ my collaborator! Do you not listen?"

"If you resist arrest, I will add _that_ to the list of charges too."

"Arrest me then! If only to refute these ridiculous charges…" I holstered my saber and offered my wrists willingly.

"Cuff him…" Kayin commanded.

A trooper stepped forward to clap a pair of stun cuffs about my forearms. "What of his weapons sir?"

"Leave them…"

"Sir?"

Kayin retracted his staff and attached it to his belt. "I _said_ leave them. A Sith cannot challenge his accuser without a weapon—but if he tries anything, kill them _all_."

"It's refreshing to see the Imperial guard still adheres to the old ways…honour has become a rare and precious thing in this day and age," Vowrawn declared as we were led aboard the Imperial guard's shuttle.

I spent the three-day journey to Dromund Kaas in seclusion. The cell was as wide as my arm span—a box braced by a wide durasteel plank, which served as both bunk and seating. A compact refresher unit suited only for waste disposal was built into the opposite corner.

Although a porter brought trays of food twice daily, I returned them untouched. I'd survived on less.

At night when the ship grew silent, the darkness reached out to me with its siren's voice—narcotic and sweet—and the temptation to respond only buoyed my resolve to resist it.

I feared time had diluted my hatred toward Taxon, but reflection revealed the vitriol I'd clung to was still there—furious and deep and ready at a moment's summons.

The shuttle dropped into the private bay of the Sith Citadel in Kaas City. A dome of amber energy flickered above us, serving to keep the rain and gusting wind at bay. Lightning came down in bright flashes as we gathered at the base of the boarding ramp.

Silthar and I acknowledged one another with a silent nod but Vowrawn was nowhere to be seen. Even the guards accompanying us seemed concerned.

"Where in blazes is he?" Silthar finally broke the silence between us. "You don't suppose he—"

I shrugged. "I don't pretend to know. Predicting his actions is akin to herding gizkas."

Five minutes later, cloistered by a half dozen guards, Vowrawn emerged from the stern of the shuttle, teeth flashing—his entire being animated with the feral exuberance of a jackal pup. General Kayin tabulated lengthy calculations on his data pad as they descended the ramp.

"My good fellow…no need to concern yourself about my winnings…I'll trust you'll put them to good use—but might I suggest a bottle of Whyren's Reserve? I hear batch number 3803 is extraordinary. We really ought to do this again. I had _no_ _idea_ Sabacc was such fun—and do thank your good captain for the use of his fine quarters. Such a gracious opponent."

The bay echoed with the jackal's laughter. Silthar and I exchanged incredulous, if not somewhat disgusted looks.

"I see you fleeced these men of their wages. Vowrawn…have you no shame?"

"Only a little…they were all quite sporting really. You would find the game far more exhilarating if you embraced spontaneity…like me."

Kayin shot Vowrawn a warning glare. "Enough…Council is due to convene within the hour."

"Excellent. I can't wait," Vowrawn said.

Two pairs of scarlet-robed guards took charge of Silthar and myself while the rest fell in alongside Vowrawn and General Kayin.

The Citadel, with its gleaming arches and vaulted ebony ceilings, exceeded my imagining. Scarlet banners bled from the interminable darkness above and colossal statues of the Emperor passed judgement with inscrutable stone faces. The Citadel smelled like worn leather, incense, and ozone.

While dim, the lighting pained my intolerant eyes and a caustic thrum began to build in the center of my forehead. Even so, I knew I belonged there, in the beating heart of the Empire.

Dark robbed Sith barely visible against the pristine walls feigned indifference as we passed, but their curiosity grasped at us through the Force, seeking to glean the purpose behind our presence. Were it not for the impending confrontation, I might have savoured my first exposure to a world I'd only dreamt of.

The elevator carried us several stories beneath the Citadel. I sensed a palpable shift where the new citadel's construction met the ancient foundation. This was a place of power, the point where every node of dark side energy on the planet converged.

Pock marks and ancient runes marked the stone walls and I was reminded of the ossuary beneath the Sith Academy through which I'd made my failed escape a dozen years ago. The flame-filled sconces flickered, announcing the arrival of two Sith lords.

General Kayin and his company dropped to one knee and the troopers remained in tight formation. Silthar and Vowrawn offered shallow bows and I followed suit.

"Arise…" The elder Sith commanded. "So these men are Taxon's accused…"

"Yes my lord," Kayin said.

"I am Darth Arctis…Head of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge and this is Darth Demolis…Keeper of Mysteries. You will accompany us into the Council's chambers to confront your accuser and answer to the charges against you."

"Wait—" Demolis cut in. He strode toward me and looked me up and down with orange vein shattered eyes. " _You're_ Marr."

"I am."

His lip curled up. "Taxon is a fool to deny you training. I sense the darkness in you—sublime and unequivocal. I understand his fear of you. You are an apprentice no longer—but a true master of hatred and the dark side. How?"

"A far greater master than Taxon schooled me in the ways of the dark side."

"And you bear the lightsaber of Tulak Hord at your side…a relic I had believed irretrievably lost."

"My trial was to claim it from my master during battle."

"May I?" With a pass of his hand the stun cuffs clamping my wrists together fell to the floor.

"Of course." I set the saber hilt across his palms.

Demolis examined the weapon with the sort of keen reverence one would expect from the Keeper of Secrets. "Tulak Hord's skill with a lightsaber was unrivaled. I daresay he was the greatest blade master of all time."

"Until now…"

"I don't understand…"

" _He_ was my master…I bested him and took his blade."

"How was that possible? Hord has been dead for centuries…"

"He revealed himself to me on Dromund Fels as a Force ghost. He took me as his apprentice seven years ago. I was arrested not an hour after completing my trial. I am no apostate, heretic or soothsayer. I _am_ Sith."

"I'm beginning to understand. And what of these men with you—these alleged heretics?"

"They are no heretics. Lord Vowrawn served as Taxon's personal ritualist but defied him in order to assist me. Taxon banished Overseer Silthar from the Academy the day he kidnapped me. He too defied Taxon, in order to assist in my instruction."

Arctis frowned. "That you've inspired such actions as a boy—and already in possession of a power base. That is no small achievement. But how is it you're still alive?"

"Taxon refused to kill me—he believed me useful because of my lineage. Septimus Tacitus was my father—Taxon and his forces killed my parents…as well as those who adopted and sheltered me."

Demolis's thumb flicked the lightsaber's switch in vain and I sensed his excitement to sample the weapon falter. "This lightsaber—is useless…it won't activate."

"It only responds to me…"

"Show me…" Demolis returned my weapon and motioned for the guards to move back.

The blade came alive in my hand, its deep growl a warning. The weapon cast a scarlet aura around me and I slashed at the air to demonstrate its readiness.

"I believe I understand. The weapon is imbued with blood memory. That makes you a—"

Darth Arctis cut him off. "We're wasting time…and I don't care to be late."

"I for one enjoy being fashionably late," Vowrawn oozed.

The doors parted at our arrival. The council chamber was smaller than I had expected—underwhelming after seeing the grandeur of the modern Citadel above.

Private entrances for every governing Sith lined the perimeter, twelve doors in all. A platform filled the center of the oval-shaped chamber and holo projection units flanked the councillor's niches. A monolithic statue of the Emperor dominated the far end of the chamber against a field of scarlet. The guard positioned us at the center of the platform and removed Vowrawn's and Silthar's stun cuffs.

A triad of chimes signalled the start of the proceedings. Dark silhouettes appeared in each council member's niche, as well as a glowing pyramid denoting their sphere of influence. Their niches remained dark and their faces inscrutable as they took their seats.

A bright hot spotlight shone down on us, the light so thick its edge was as defined as a containment field.

Darth Caliginus, Head of the Sphere of Laws and Justice stood to address the council. I remembered the name from Kayin's warrant and took in the measure of the tawny-skinned pureblood. No more than thirty-five, and with his prim posture and mannerisms, I guessed that he came from money.

"My fellow councillors, this session has been called to address Darth Taxon's charges against the accused—Lord Vowrawn charged with heresy. Lord Silthar charged with heresy. Ares Marr…charged with apostasy, blasphemy, and augury. Who speaks on your behalf?"

I stepped forward. "I do."

"And how do you plead?"

"Not guilty—but I have charges of my own to levy."

"There are channels you must go through to do so…your charges are irrelevant here," Caliginus warned.

"A council that accepts one man's charges as absolute truth is a _corrupt_ council. My charges _will_ be heard, your channels be damned."

"You _dare_ challenge the Dark Council…its laws and membership?"

Vowrawn groaned.

"If that's what it takes…then yes. I challenge this council. Each and every one of you. I _will_ be heard."

Taxon leapt to his feet. "Strike this fool down! Who is he to dictate to us? I will tell you! He is nothing—the arrogant child of a heretic and a betrayer."

"Caliginus, silence Taxon! Or _I_ will."

"You do not recognize Darth Taxon's position here…I find your lack of respect disturbing," Darth Cynster said.

"No. I do _not_ recognize him as anything other than the murderer of my parents, Lord Septimus Tacitus and Lady Lilin Tacitus. I charge him with those murders, as well as the murders of my adoptive parents Lish and Ailan Marr. I charge him with the destruction and seizure of their property and with obstructing the Sith paradigm—for removing an overseer of the Academy without cause…with kidnapping a Force-sensitive child and denying that child training without cause…I charge him with confinement and extortion. And I charge _him_ with apostasy and wasting this council's time and my own."

"I will not stand here and tolerate this! Kill him! Kill him now!" Taxon growled.

Darth Arctis stepped forward. "I believe Marr has a right to be heard."

"I concur," Darth Demolis added. "I submit for council's perusal, an audio conversation captured by our security cams, just prior to this session. I believe it will show the reasons for Darth Taxon's persecution of this man."

The chamber fell silent while the audio capture played.

Darth Demolis paused the audio and rolled his hand. "So you see, Taxon knew this man was a descendant of Tulak Hord…and hoped to use him for his own ends…"

"Do you think you will get away with this Demolis? Arctis? You've conspired against me for years…and now you think you will use this blustering child against me to further your goals?"

"I agree with Darth Taxon, this has gone on long enough," Cynster drawled.

Caliginus clasped his hands behind his back and paced, brows furrowed deeply. "Those in favor of exploring Marr's counter charges…Mekhis, Demolis, Arctus, Nilaiha and Lied. Those against? Cynster, Taxon, Ignis, Evilor and myself. We have a stalemate…and in the event of a stalemate, the law demands we uphold the accuser of higher status. Darth Taxon…by merit of his title and membership, the advantage is his. I hereby sentence Ares Marr and his conspirators—to death…"

"Then I _challenge_ his position, title, and membership."

"This is laughable…you're nothing. You have no title…"

"Oh, but I do. I am a Lord of Hatred and Master of the Gathering Darkness…titles bestowed upon me by my Master Tulak Hord."

"Preposterous!" Taxon cried. "A ghost? You claim a ghost trained you? Hah!"

"If the notion is so ridiculous then accepting my challenge should be easy for you. Or are you afraid?"

"I fear nothing—least of all you, Marr."

"Then you are a bigger fool than I thought."

((to be continued…))


	13. Chapter 13

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Twelve~**

 _Vengeance is an equal measure of humiliation and death._

"It is _you_ who is the fool. You should have stayed dead!" Taxon erupted from his darkened niche, the floor vibrating upon his landing. His outburst served to confirm my suspicions—he hadn't discovered the truth himself, he had been informed.

His stance reminded me of an ape posturing to intimidate his band. The light beam trained on the center of the arena's floor wasn't kind to Taxon. The white brush of hair had grown since I'd last seen him and hung about his shoulders like a stringy mane. His sideburns extended almost to his chin, patchy and sparse. His lower lip was drawn out wide and called attention to his protruding lower canines. "I will _adorn_ this chamber with your entrails, Marr."

"Entrails are so last century. The décor would be vastly improved with the addition of several comfortable chairs," Vowrawn taunted.

A few low snickers escaped from the councillor's niches.

"Shut up fop!" Taxon roared, his corrupted pallor flushing a livid red.

"Enough!" My lightsaber responded to the subtle flex of my hand, roaring its threat as intention and action became one.

Taxon fixed me in his glare once more. "You dare command _me_?"

"I am not here to trade barbs." I carved the air before me in challenge, scarlet phantoms of my blade marking where it had been. "I am here for your blood."

Taxon straightened to his full height, his blade igniting at the same instant. "You arrogant…son of a—"

Before he could finish his slur I advanced on him, our blades at once gnashing and sputtering in a flurry of crimson.

Caliginus, Vowrawn, and Silthar receded to the edge of the arena to avoid the fray. The silhouettes in each council niche sidled closer to the edge of their boxes like spectators at a Huttball match.

Taxon's duelling style relied on his brute strength and the longer I perpetuated the dance, the more his strength waned. I sought to draw him across the length of the chamber a third time when he realized my strategy. He threw me back but rather than lose my footing, I somersaulted and landed on my feet. My recovery stoked his anger and he charged at me like a rancor.

The second before impact, I sidestepped to avoid the collision. Without my body to break his momentum, Taxon crashed headlong into the statue of the Emperor. The statue teetered on its base. He gave his head a shake, and the wormy tendrils flanking his chin quivered. His attention shot upward and then I saw why. I took several steps backwards.

The statue loomed over him like a felled tree, losing the battle to remain upright. The monument toppled—breaking into three pieces. The head of the Emperor tumbled past me. I stared at it with a stunned incredulity, thankful again for the mask that hid my reaction.

The Imperial banner tore under Taxon's weight and plummeted to trap him wriggling beneath it.

The snickers I'd heard earlier thickened into full throaty laughter—female laughter—Mekhis, Lied, and Nilaiha—three of the councillors that had sided against Taxon before Caliginus's ruling. Vowrawn and Silthar joined in.

"I thought this was a _duel_ , Taxon…not a nerf fight! Bravo matador!" Vowrawn called through cupped hands. Silthar applauded.

Taxon slashed free of the banner and emerged just as red, his teeth gritted and bared. He threw back his cloak and stalked out of the apse where the monument had stood. The laughter spread like a disease until the chamber echoed with it.

"Order!" Caliginus called out. "I demand Order!"

The chamber fell quiet again, save for Taxon's rasping breath.

I sensed a surge gathering in the Force and Taxon's connection to it. A great gust of power ripped through the chamber, sweeping Vowrawn and Silthar both, high into the air. Their hands flew to their throats and their eyes bulged.

"Your fight is with _me_ , Taxon."

He didn't seem to hear me. I flung my weapon at his saber hand and bisected the hilt of his saber. The pommel skittered across the floor and Taxon was left holding the sparking stump of the hilt. With his blade destroyed, his concentration broke. Both men fell to the floor, gasping and coughing.

"It's over Taxon. You have no weapon." I retracted my blade and folded my arms.

He spun around, orienting himself to the side of the room that contained niches of those who supported him. "Help me put an end to this cretin! Evilor! Ignis! Give me a lightsaber—one of you…"

Several moments of stunned silence passed before a voice broke the razor sharp lull in the chamber. Darth Cynster, Head of the Sphere of Production and Logistics, stood. "Take mine."

With an upturned palm, Taxon claimed the tendered lightsaber. The weapon came alive with a watery swishing sound.

Darth Mekhis slapped the rail enclosing her niche. "You _can't_ be serious…giving him your weapon! The duel is over…Taxon's life is forfeit. Marr is the victor."

"That is _not_ your call," Caliginus snapped. " _I_ am Head of Laws and Justice!"

Demolis jabbed a finger towards Caliginus. "Your bias and thus your corruption is showing…"

"It is within Cynster's _right_ to volunteer as a second," Caliginus reminded.

Mekhis shook her head. " _Before_ a duel! A second's role is far more than providing a replacement weapon."

"Do you agree to serve?"

"Yes, yes, I serve as second..." Cynster's silhouette threw up his arms. "Swat this insect and be done with this. You have my weapon, _use_ it."

Taxon didn't need to be told twice. He took the offensive with renewed composure. The brief interlude had served him. His mien was more measured now—almost to the point of restraint.

Through years of bullying and intimidation, he had grown too accustomed to the quick and lazy resolutions that came with brute force. Met with an equally immoveable opponent, he found himself wanting. Were he more adroit, I might have believed he had been testing me.

The clash of lightsabers echoed as we continued the dance. He kept the distance between us close, refusing to be baited into exerting himself as before.

Taxon murmured incantations under his breath and I felt a drain on my vigor. If I continued in a defensive stance, he would drain me. I had to interrupt his focus and reclaim the offensive. The darkness called to me, inciting me to summon it.

 _Not yet…_

My chest and arms ached, and I began to understand. As my vitality and connection to the Force diminished, his would grow. With every punishing blow, I sensed his strength returning. As he grew more confident in his power, he summoned tangles of lightning, spewing them at me with relentless fury.

I swatted each jangling ball of electricity back at him, only to have it deflected. With a high kick to his chest, I pushed him back. His bulk and brutish form made him clumsy. He stumbled over a fist-sized piece of rubble from the broken statue and fell on his back.

He was slow to rise and I leapt high, aiming to drive my blade into his chest. Instead, he used the Force to at once shield himself and deflect me. I rolled three times and landed in a crouch at the far end of the arena, stopping just short of the Emperor's headless torso.

By now, Taxon had found his feet. He lobbed the Emperor's stone head at me. I sidestepped the brunt of it. The head shattered behind me, and I summoned the debris into a swarm to pelt him down.

The larger chunks of debris shattered into dust, but enough of it pummeled him to slow his advance.

He muttered another string of sorcery, but this time, I was prepared and answered it with one of my own. Beyond the pale, the darkness rejoiced and rushed to my service. It swirled about me, a cloak of inky shadow—a train of seething skulls trailing behind me.

The darkness pursued Taxon. Gnarled fingers coiled around his body until only his head and feet protruded from each end of the fist.

Several gasps echoed through the chamber, but from which niches they originated from, I did not know.

His body rose ever higher, the velocity growing as he neared the vaulted ceiling. His body flailed and twisted into impossible postures. He screamed again, the sound so shrill, I questioned if it was him or the darkness. Ceiling fragments rained all around him after the first impact. The borrowed weapon fell from his shattered hand and cartwheeled across the floor, its clattering song coming to a close against a boulder of rubble.

Spidery fissures cracked the stone floor tiles after the next impact. Taxon bounced between ceiling and floor, twice more, and I thought I heard the sickening crunch of breaking bones.

I opened my arms to the darkness, the tendrils slithering under my bracers as it flowed back to me.

Tattered and broken, Taxon lay upon the floor. Through the Force, I felt his stubborn heartbeat, still determined to power his sluggish blood. I respected his determination and will, but it was not enough to earn my mercy.

The darkness crooned in my veins, fueling my blood with merciless hosannas. I had tasted Taxon's humiliation and I craved for more.

Unable to stand, he crawled on his belly toward Cynster's lightsaber. The Force flickered inside him—a flame bullied by eager winds. I watched him inch toward the weapon, his last hope at somehow besting me. As his fingers were about to close around the hilt, the weapon escaped him and stopped just beyond reach. He shifted forward to pursue it again, so defeated he failed to comprehend, I would play this denying game until his last breath.

"Stop playing, Marr…end it," Caliginus growled.

"When I am satisfied that he has paid for all he has taken from me…and from these others…then and only then. That is within _my_ right."

I caught myself hoping Caliginus or Cynster would interfere. I reached for them through the Force, but they remained rooted in their respective locations.

I summoned the borrowed blade and examined the carved silver hilt before pulverizing it into scrap in my fist. I whipped the wadded hilt at Cynster. "Your weapon… _second_."

I turned to face the niches where Taxon's allies stood. "Will none of you give him your weapons?" I opened my arms entreating them, but instead of a response, I sensed their disquiet. "No one? Very well…"

I fixed Taxon in my gaze again. The time had come to end him, but it would not be a peaceful passing.

The darkness roiled within me, and with it came an intoxicating hatred. Rods of black-blue lightning wove through Taxon—bolts for my blood parents, bolts for my adoptive parents, for Silthar's niece and for a beast that looked to me as its master.

Another bolt to punish for the years he'd stolen from me, and another for the lost Tacitus legacy. I revelled in his torment and abasement. I feasted on it and felt it feed the clamouring mouths in the darkness.

Through the Force, my fingers closed around his throat. He rose and I dragged him toward me, savoring the scuffing sound of his boot tips against the ruined floor. Slouching and weak, he hovered before me. It was in this moment that I realized the darkness was a part of me. It was no more foreign than my body or my weapon, or the dark intellect that whispered to me since birth. The darkness was never meant to be controlled or restrained—it was meant to be unleashed.

I lifted Taxon's doddering head and stared into his eyes. "I condemn you to the darkness…that they may feed on you for an eternity."

The shadows cocooned him—a mass of hungry serpents feasting until his bones had been picked clean. I rammed my lightsaber through his rib cage and let the remains fall to the floor.

" _Now_ …I am finished. Release Vowrawn and Silthar, I believe that is my right as well."

Caliginus grudgingly waved off the guards. "The charges against you are dismissed."

Vowrawn clapped the dust from his hands. "Well now, that was quite the match wasn't it? I have fire in my veins and a song on my lips," Vowrawn crooned.

Silthar brushed the front of his robes and exhaled heavily. "I'm grateful. Thank you, Marr, but I think you'll understand if I take my leave now. Surely there is a dig site somewhere…far away."

I bowed and pressed my hand to my heart. "May the Force ever serve you…Overseer."

"And you as well." Silthar wasted no time clearing the chamber.

I turned to face Vowrawn and regarded him for a moment in silence. "I _know_ it was you, Vowrawn. You arranged this…"

"But what will you do now, Marr?" Vowrawn pressed. "Victory is yours!" The impish spark in his eye worried me.

"I believe Silthar had the right idea…" I glanced at the surrounding niches with disdain, and sensing little resistance, I started for the door.

"What about your seat, Marr…" Darth Arctis called out. "It seems we face the advent of galactic war, with no one to lead the Sphere of Defense of the Empire. The seat is yours by virtue of your victory."

Vowrawn and I exchanged looks.

"Just remember me in a few weeks when you have an opening in Production and Logistics," he whispered.

"A few weeks—I'm surprised you would wait so long…"

Vowrawn's response came in the form of a wide cheeky grin that reminded me of a hungry Nexu. "The victory is yours, m'boy, savour it. I think a holiday is in order." He clapped my shoulder. "I'll be in touch."

Cynster slapped his palms against the half wall of his niche. "He has no title…save for this made up business he claims the ghost gave him."

Demolis laughed. "After that display, do you truly doubt the authenticity of his training? Or the veracity of his titles? He is truly touched by darkness. Perhaps you'd like to challenge him, hmm?"

"I have no weapon," Cynster grumbled.

Demolis smirked. "I'll take that as a _no_. Arctus…anything to add?"

Arctus, the senior most member of the council stood before me. "Marr, by order of the Dark Council and your prowess and mastery over the dark side, you are now Darth Marr. With us, you rule all the Sith and are answerable only to our ultimate master, the Emperor. You are charged with defending the Empire—that we may stand against any challenger and emerge victorious."

"From what I have witnessed here today, change is needed. We have a great deal of work ahead."

"Then I consider you, the herald of change…May the Force ever serve you, _Darth_ Marr," Arctus murmured and left me standing alone in the ruined chamber.

I took my place within my niche and leaned heavily against the railing, somehow intuiting, this moment was the beginning of the end.

((to be continued…))


	14. Chapter 14

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Thirteen~**

 _We live as long as we are remembered…_

The council chambers faded and with it the triumph of my ascension.

Returned to the present, the protective mantle of the past gave way to the Force tide. To my surprise, I had overcome the disorientation I'd come to expect. The current ebbed around me, like the depths of a cool Alderaanian lake and I was reminded of a happier time. The will of the Force banked on my nostalgia, using it to impel me toward the void. The nudge was subtle but no less determined to guide me toward the fate that claimed most Sith.

The void loomed on the horizon, a pool of indigo swirling with ribbons of ultramarine and cerulean blue. If I listened intently enough, I could hear the music of its vibration and it reminded me of the electromagnetic frequency of every ringed planet I had reason to survey. The eerie treble chimes mingled with the deep thrumming bass, spoke of the Force, light and dark entwined.

No matter how fierce or gentle its demand I would not surrender. I could not. I was of no use in the void, and while death deprived me of much, it would not rob me of my purpose.

The Force pressed me again—the urgency to expel me from this plane growing ever more insistent.

"I will not yield!"

My voice boomed across the ocean and vanished into the void. For the briefest of moments, I thought I'd heard a response, the voice soft yet commanding—"I will not fight you…"

The Force tide would not allow me to dwell on the voice or the resignation it intoned. I dismissed it as a hallucination and turned my back to the void.

The burden of my defiance set into my shoulders. I grew heavier and more tired.

Curiosity drove me to look over my shoulder to measure my progress, and to my dismay, I'd gained no advantage from my efforts, if anything, the void appeared closer.

I roared my frustration. Impatient and desperate I began my efforts anew, only to drain myself further. The will of the Force had a new ally in my fatigue, and my confidence in my own strength wavered.

In life, I ignored such impulses. I had no time to wax over my diminishing humanity, but here, time exists in abundance and memories are weapons. Perhaps they serve as sustenance as well.

The darkness had eroded the man I was—and continued to undermine the residue of that man. I began to understand the war wasn't solely between myself and the will of the Force, but between it and the darkness. I was merely a soldier, caught between the dark values that served me in life and the impractical ideals that sought to condemn me to the abyss for my choices. I would not regret, repent, or recant.

If I summoned the darkness to fight for me, it would devour the last vestiges of humanity I clung to. I had no strength left to control it. Only chaos would survive. The darkness was my one advantage—a last resort I must not squander—only during a moment of great need, would I make that sacrifice, no sooner.

To fight the will of the Force, I would need to attack. Holding ground was no longer enough—but the only arsenal at my disposal was memory. Not every decision I'd made led to the corruption of my nature—a fact I was determined to prove. Not every road was dark. There had been a light once. It was dim and weak, but I recognized something of myself in its persistence.

I remained still. Tranquility carried me further than the thrashing effort I'd expended before. Fighting did nothing. This was not a battle, but a game of chess.

I had fallen into Taxon's habit of relying on physical prowess alone and the will of the Force capitalized on my weakness. On a plane where the corporeal does not exist, I had been labouring under a crippling disadvantage. Slowly, I began to advance toward my desire—a shimmering world I had grown to hate in life.

No bigger than a pin point of starlight, the speck beckoned to me across the deep. Each step brought me closer, and the completion it promised nourished me. My strength returned and with it renewed vigor and resolve. The will of the Force would not win. If there was a way to escape the looming void, I would find it.

I drifted along the now familiar shore that was the past. The darkness enveloped me and the guiding star exploded to become many. White hot streaks blazed past me as I plummeted across the world's thermosphere. Black became blue, then fuschia and orange, the skies brightening until I was met with the golden bands of an Alderaanian sunset.

The shuttle quaked and the instrument panel blacked out. I recognized this moment as my first visit to Alderaan, nine years after ascending to the Dark Council.

I didn't need sensor readings to see the jagged range of snow-capped mountains ahead. I pulled up sharp. The shuttle's belly grazed the peak.

The fuselage groaned. The stench of fuel told me I'd ripped open the fuel tank. I swore under my breath. The ship swayed and lurched.

Fuel gushed from the shuttle like blood through a sliced artery. The engines sputtered and stalled. I was turned on my head. Blood pounded in my skull and I growled. The shuttle spiralled and wouldn't respond to my command.

I reached out with the Force to right the vessel and hold it steady. The ship skipped twice across a slushy plain and collided with a mound of phosphorescent purple. Gel and guts exploded across the viewport like crushed grapes, but the shuttle continued to rush forward. I tucked my head against my chest and held myself. Several seconds passed before I realized the shuttle had stopped.

I pawed at the seat belt and threw it back to escape the cockpit. Sparks shot through the console and the stench of fuel hung in the air. I didn't have much time.

The shuttle had taken more damage than I'd thought. The ceiling had collapsed and as I rushed toward the hatch, I was forced to crouch. Hoses swung loose and jets of foggy steam filled the compartment. I threw myself against the hatch, forcing it just enough to see that the shuttle was impacted by a mound of moist clay.

Fuel oozed toward me from the aft compartment and flames engulfed the cockpit. I drew my lightsaber and thrust it through the portside wall, grinding the blade through the durasteel, to forge a new opening.

Cool air rushed inside, feeding the flames. I threw my supply pack ahead of me and tumbled through the smouldering exit I'd carved. I rolled to my feet and put as much distance between myself and the burning shuttle as the slushy soil would allow. The flames and fuel met, the resultant force throwing me forward. My skull vibrated inside my helmet and my ears rang. I tumbled and rolled, finally coming to a stop at the edge of a precipice. I peered over the edge, noting a good ten-meter drop. After collecting myself, I stood and watched the flaming remnants rain over the clearing.

The fireball grew to engulf the hive-shaped mound until it collapsed. The molten clay oozed over the remains of the shuttle and smothered the fire. The chittering wail of dozens of insects rose from within the hive. The pitch of their cries grew sharper and took on a more desperate resonance—a rallying call.

Killiks.

Swarms of man-sized insects armed with crater-riddled glaives rushed toward the damaged mound. Others swarmed the clutch of shattered purple eggs. I'd murdered their offspring and burned their home—hardly an auspicious beginning to a mission dedicated to understanding the Alderaanian political climate.

Not even Vowrawn's detailed briefing could prepare me for the onslaught I was about to encounter.

The insects turned in perfect unison to face me; as if one voice—or one mind—commanded them. I might have admired their precision under different circumstances. The insectoid army advanced, their song and weapons raised to a blazing pitch.

Instinct told me to take a step backwards, but the crumbling stones under my heel reminded me I had nowhere to go but down or forward. Neither option held any appeal.

Beyond the swarming mass, a woman's piercing scream made the decision for me.

 _Forward it is, then_.

My lightsaber snarled to life and I threw myself at the horde of insects. Scratchy brown bodies became a tunnel around me, the scarlet glow of my blade the only light. I plowed forward, slashing, and stabbing and dodging glaives. The clatter of mandibles and their tergum armoured bellies was almost deafening.

With a wave of my arm, I swept the corpses to one side and somersaulted to a bulbous ledge jutting from one of the nearby hives. To my horror, the body of a trooper lolled through the wall, exposure to their secretions having eaten away the soldier's insignias. What colouring remained suggested he had served the Republic. A thermal detonator hung from his belt. I snatched the device and glared at the remaining throng of angry insects below.

 _Hmph…let us hope this works…_

I depressed the switch and felt the vibration against my palm as it armed. The blinking red light hastened and I lobbed the sphere into the heart of the chattering army below.

The sphere detonated, triggering a whorl of dismembered insects and livid splashes of muddy yellow blood across the snow-dappled mountainside. After the explosion settled, quiet fell over the mountain and I questioned if the woman had survived.

I leapt from my perch and strode up the incline. Night threatened to cloak the mountainside. If I failed to learn the woman's fate within the half hour, I would need to abandon the search. Perhaps it was an exercise in futility…I began to doubt of her survival.

As I was about to abandon the search, my gaze was drawn to a clump of dark green fabric, a sharp contrast against the pristine snow. The girl didn't move, but through the Force, she appeared as a shimmering light.

I shucked my gloves and pressed my fingers to her throat. She was pale and cool to the touch, but the jaunty persistence of her pulse thrummed against my fingertips.

By my estimation, the girl was no more than twenty. Dainty manicured fingernails and the elaborately coiled hair suggested she was of noble birth. A low involuntary chuckle escaped me when I discovered she was armed only with a jewel encrusted letter opener. I shook my head and tucked the makeshift weapon into my belt. What she was doing here alone, remained a mystery.

I unfastened the pearlescent buttons at her throat and loosened the wide embroidered sash binding her waist to help her breathing. A complex network of under-wiring cinched an already tiny waist. I tugged the lower third of the corset's busk apart. Nobles and their ridiculously uptight clothing…

No sooner had her eyes snapped open, she pelted me with her fists. "Stop it! At once! Or…I'll scream!"

"I'd rather you didn't."

"You're a beast," she whimpered.

"No…I'm your rescuer."

"That doesn't give you the right! Please don't—I'm…betrothed." She gripped the sash and drew it to her chest as if I'd stripped her bare.

I laughed. "And how precisely will your impending marriage aid your breathing?"

"My breathing?" Confusion bloomed in her eyes.

"Yes…you were unconscious. What did you think I was doing?"

"I thought…I thought you were going to—you're a Sith aren't you?"

"And because of that, you assumed I was going to take advantage of you."

"Well…yes. Aren't you?"

"Is that a hint of disappointment?"

"No!" She roared and patted down her robes. "Wings of the thranta…where is it…"

"I suppose you're looking for _this_." I patted the letter opener tucked into my belt.

"Give it back."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Given your reaction, I suspect you're with House Organa." I rose and folded my arms.

"No…I'm from House Teraan."

"Which to my understanding is _allied_ with Organa—and that makes _you_ my captive."

"A captive—what's going to happen to me?"

"That…remains to be seen. If you co-operate, you will be returned to your family, no doubt as part of a prisoner exchange."

She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Through the Force, I sensed her fear rising over her shoulders like a fog—but it wasn't so much me that she feared or the insects or even captivity…

"You don't wish to return to your family. You ran away—that would explain why you're here… _alone_."

She lifted her head and sniffled. "Just go away, let me be."

"You're of noble birth. What could be so terrible, that you'd prefer death?"

"You wouldn't understand…"

"Because I'm Sith…"

She nodded quickly and swiped at her tears.

"Perhaps, it is because I'm Sith, that I _would_ understand—better than any other…"

"I doubt that. You can do _anything_ …you're free…I'm told what to wear and how to act and who I can marry…I _wish_ I was a Sith or a Jedi… _anything_ …except who I am."

"I was raised as a slave…my family was more fortunate than most…we had shelter and food in bellies—but we were slaves…"

" _You_ were a slave?"

"For a time…but I longed for more. The Sith code gave me strength…perhaps it might do the same for you."

"I'd like to hear it…"

"Very well…" I drew a breath and gazed down at the girl by my feet. Brown, fear tainted eyes seared into my memory and I caught myself wanting to soothe the fear I saw there. I turned away. "Peace is a lie; there is only passion; through passion, I gain strength, through strength I gain power…through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken…the Force shall free me."

"That's…beautiful. But Master Rylister…he's a Jedi who visits us regularly—he says, there's no passion…only serenity…"

"Jedi platitudes…hmph. And what profound advice did this Jedi offer you?"

"He told me to be calm…that he would speak to my father on my behalf…and help him understand my unhappiness—that I don't love Malon Baliss…that I never could. I don't want to marry to win allies…I want to be loved."

I whirled on her. "A Jedi cannot speak of _that_ which he does not understand…what does a Jedi know of love or unhappiness?"

"And what do you know about it, my Lord?"

 _Why am I even entertaining this mawkish nonsense?_ "We need to leave before the infernal insects return," I barked.

"I'm not going anywhere…let them come." She lifted her chin indignantly and the misery in her eyes became a challenge.

"Don't be a fool…"

"Please don't talk to me like that…I _don't_ like it."

"You're testing my patience."

I sensed a lone presence no more than a few meters away—a killik. My lightsaber came alive in my hand.

"Are you going to kill me?"

"Quiet…stay down." I hurled the saber into the night and cut the creature down. My lightsaber returned to me, and I re-sheathed my blade. " _That_ was a killik scout—we won't be alone much longer. Surely, accompanying me holds more appeal than becoming insect fodder."

"Maybe a little." She stood and dusted herself off.

In spite of myself, I chuckled.

Deep within the valley, a dome of golden light lifted over the treetops. "There…is that an outpost?"

"I think that's Wardpost Luurdes…but we can't go _there_ …they'll shoot you."

"Your concern, while touching…is unnecessary."

"Yes, but they might miss and shoot _me_ instead."

I palmed my forehead. "I think I'm beginning to understand why your father wants to be rid of you. Let's move."

((to be continued…))


	15. Chapter 15

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Fourteen~**

 _Silence confesses more than words if one knows how to listen._

"My lord? We've been walking for hours. Can't we stop to rest? _Please_?" She stood awkwardly on one foot while rubbing the other.

I slowed my gait, but when she realized I had no intention of stopping, she hastened and caught my elbow. She stumbled at my side and reflexively I reached out to steady her—silently cursing myself the moment I did. She gazed up at me and I looked away.

"Please, just for a minute? I can't walk anymore. My feet hurt."

"How you even made it _this_ far in those ridiculous shoes is beyond me…"

I expected a spirited answer but was met with silence instead. I raised the light stick to cast a wider arc.

A creek bubbled languidly ahead. She'd drained the canteen over an hour ago and though I'd willingly given her the last of the water, I could no longer ignore my own thirst.

"I'm begging you…"

Her plaintive whisper touched something in me and I found myself at odds between indulging her and keeping my distance. "There's a stream ahead—you may rest while I refill the canteen."

"Thank you, my lord, thank you." She clung to my arm, her breathing hitching with every step she took. I stole a glance at her profile. Pale and shivering, her lips formed a tight line and tears clung to her lashes. The elaborate hairstyle had come undone and hung down her shoulder in messy coils. To her credit, she'd complained far less, than I'd have expected from a spoiled noble.

At the stream, she perched on a stone and removed her ruined shoes and stockings. I doused the canteen in the current and watched her soothe the soles of her feet. Raw and bloody, her feet were riddled with broken blisters and she winced when she accidentally brushed one.

I considered the full canteen for a moment but set it aside to rummage through my supply pack. Wedged at the bottom I found a bar of kolto and a roll of gauze. "This will help."

"I didn't plan my escape very well, did I?" She glanced up at me and smiled coyly.

"No…" I knelt before her. "I'm no medic, but…if you'll permit me."

She nodded and I set to work on treating her feet. "The water is cold," I warned. "But the kolto is colder. This _will_ sting."

"You're not at all what I expected," she murmured. "I was taught the Sith are callous and cruel."

"I was taught the same about Alderaanian nobility."

Her eyes widened and she erupted into bright laughter. "Point taken…" She held herself and remained remarkably still as I worked.

"I just meant…I appreciate your kindness. I'd probably be dead now if it wasn't for you." She reached out cautiously and set her hand on mine and I froze.

"I've just realized, we don't even know each other's names…I'm Liaseph…"

I tugged my hand free when I realized I enjoyed her touch too much and looked away. "My name is irrelevant." I finished binding her feet and tossed the remnants of the gauze and kolto into my pack.

"Is that _Lord_ or _Darth_ Irrelevant?" She quipped.

"This isn't some social event—I am your captor and you… _you_ are my hostage." I hoped to restore some semblance of distance, but my words rang hollow. Like a shuttle caught in a tractor beam, I was drawn ever closer to her, against my will and better judgement.

Her shoulders slumped. "I thought _maybe_ …we could be friends."

"The Sith have no friends…"

"It must be awfully sad, living that way."

"Who are you to judge? Your own family seeks to barter you like chattel."

She lowered her gaze and smoothed her skirt in silence. My tone had been sharper, more vicious than I'd intended. I had offended her—hurt her. I seized the canteen and turned away to remove the frontispiece of my mask. I guzzled half the water in one draught and then reaffixed my mask.

"Why do you hide your face? How can you even breathe in that?"

"My comfort and my reasons are—"

"None of my business, right? How am I supposed to learn about the Sith culture if you won't answer my questions? You point out my ignorance at every turn, but you won't teach me."

I sighed, realizing I was too tired to argue. I sat on the stone opposite her and examined the canteen as if it were the most interesting specimen of its kind in the galaxy.

Her stomach rumbled loudly enough to break the silence between us. She held herself more tightly. "Excuse me," she whispered.

I reached into the pack for the ration bar I'd been saving and passed it to her. "Eat."

She turned the foil packet over in her hands and when she opened it, she cracked the bar in two, keeping half for herself and offering the rest back to me.

"Here, take it my lord…you need to eat too."

I accepted the halved bar and stole another glance at her. She nibbled at her portion and watched me intently. She'd caught me looking and seemed to be amused by it.

"Gracious of you…Liaseph." The syllables of her name lingered on my tongue even after I'd spoken it.

"Not really. I was just curious what you look like under that mask." Her eyebrow shot up impishly, and though she couldn't see it, I smiled.

"Few of those who have seen my face, still live."

"Is it _that_ bad?"

"Hmph…perhaps." I bit back my amusement and set the bar aside.

"Now you have me even _more_ curious." She rubbed at her upper arms and tugged the cuffs of her dress over her knuckles.

"You're cold…"

"Yes, my lord. I suppose you'll want to get moving soon."

"No. We'll camp here for the night. I doubt we'd reach the wardpost by morning."

"They'll hurt you…"

"You would be better off with your own people."

"But I'm your prisoner, I thought you were going to trade me for a general or something."

I chuckled. "You have a high opinion of yourself…I'd thought perhaps a lieutenant or captain at best."

"You need to aim higher then…I can't be seen with some underachieving Sith." She laughed and took the liberty of spreading the thermal blanket from my pack beside the rocks.

After collecting an armful of branches, I arranged them before us and set them alight through the Force. The flames crackled and shimmied skyward.

"Better, yes?"

She splayed her fingers before the fire and rubbed her hands. "Much better, my lord. Thank you."

"Ares…"

"My lord?"

"My name…is Ares."

"It suits you." She smiled and we sat in silence for a long time. The cool night air fanned the flames higher until their comforting warmth enveloped the camp.

I stared into the blaze, searching the golden spears for visions or warnings, but saw only her face. The adoration in her eyes kindled a warmth in me that transcended the fire. For a few moments, I dared to consider what it would mean if I returned her to her people and what it would if I didn't.

Could I give her up to another man?

Her fate would be no better with me—it would be worse. In time she would come to resent my absence and that I'd taken her from her family. I chastised myself for my foolish reverie and sighed. I looked up at the night sky as if admiring the foreign constellations would offer a solution or erase the notion entirely—but it didn't. The idea of keeping her clung to me as stubbornly as the darkness.

"Ares…what are you thinking about?"

"Only how the stars shine more brightly here—one in particular," I glanced at her and smiled before remembering she couldn't see my face. And then I was thankful that she couldn't. Heat rose under my mask and I frowned. I had no talent for flirtation.

She turned to face me better and nestled against my arm. "At home, I would sneak up to the rooftop at night to look at them. Master Rylister said a moon would steal their luster."

The Jedi again. The mere mention of his name sobered me and left a bitter aftertaste. I was behaving the fool. I'd known the girl no more than a few hours and was already entertaining impractical whims. I decided it wasn't privilege that fuelled the aristocracy's entitlement, but an airborne disease carried in the mountain air, and now I had been infected as well.

"This Jedi…he would be there…with you?"

"Sometimes. On a clear night, I'd bring food and he'd bring his telescope. He'd tell me stories about all the worlds he'd visited and legends about their moons. I can't even imagine—I've never seen a moon before, except in holos."

"You've never been off world?"

Liaseph shook her head. "No—only the politicians travel, and of course the Jedi. Everyone else is too busy with all the infighting and scheming. Ballrooms are warzones, just as much as any battlefield. They forget everything else—until the war finds a way to remind them."

"You speak as if you're not like them…"

"I'm not. I'm terrible at pretending—I don't hide my feelings well and I tend to blurt out exactly what I'm thinking…which is disastrous here. My sister is much better at it. Like my father says, s _he_ knows how to play the game—and because of that her prospects are better than mine."

"And what of this man you're betrothed to?"

She rolled her eyes. "He's loud and self-absorbed and for someone with so much, he's stingy and mean to his servants. It's embarrassing. I'm ashamed to be anywhere near him. And I know this will sound terrible, but he chews like a nerf. I don't think it's possible for him to do anything quietly. Even dancing with him is like torture. You think my feet are in poor shape now…imagine after dancing with him at a ball."

"Your father has much to gain if you marry him?"

"Our house would be restored to what it once was. Several houses owe my father money, but he's too proud to demand repayment, so he carries their debt. We could only do that for so long before we had problems ourselves. Our home fell into disrepair and we couldn't afford to keep company—it was shameful. To save face, he borrowed from House Baliss…they've amassed quite a fortune over the years. In creating a marriage bond between our families, his debt would evaporate—but that's not enough, I'm expected to provide Malon with heirs…"

"And you find this duty repugnant?"

"With him? Yes." Her lip twisted and her eyes hardened. I could sense her hatred expanding like an aging sun. She despised him and for a girl with no Force gifts, her hatred was inspiring. What a Sith she might have been…

"He wants to have an examining ceremony before our engagement…can you believe that?"

"Explain…I don't know what that is."

"Malon wants to ensure…that I'm a…" She licked her lips and her cheeks flushed a deep rose. "He wants proof that I'm— _intact_."

"I see. And is that a problem?"

She swatted me. "I can't believe you'd ask me that. I'm a lady."

I chuckled. "And yet here we are talking about it."

"It's only a problem, in that I am."

"There is a remedy…one I might be persuaded to provide," I quipped.

" _Might_ be?" She laughed. "You won't even take off your mask. Besides, I'm not _that_ kind of a girl."

"And what would your father do, if you were found wanting?"

"I don't know. I think he'd be livid…Could we talk about something else? I don't want to think about it anymore. I'd rather hear about you. What's it like where you're from?"

"The capitol is surrounded by jungles filled with vicious creatures. It rains almost every day. Socially…it's little different than here. I avoid socializing beyond the duties my work demands. I'm rarely on Dromund Kaas. I spend the majority of my time on the bridge of my ship."

"It sounds lonely. What is it you do?"

"I defend the interests of the Empire…protect our worlds from incursion."

"You're a soldier then…"

"I suppose, in a manner of speaking, yes."

"That's probably why I feel so safe with you." She clasped my arm and pointed at the sky. "See those stars," she outlined the shape with her fingertip…that's Avernal the Defender—the first king of Alderaan. Legend says he fought an entire army by himself to protect his family."

"And did he succeed?"

"No…he was dying and couldn't reach them in time."

"What happened to them?"

"She and their children were killed by a traitor. Avernal became so angry that he made a bargain with Death—that if he were allowed to live long enough to avenge his family, he would wear Death's cloak and wander the galaxy forever in his place. That smaller cluster of stars there…that's Fenestra, his wife and those two are their children."

"Did the Jedi tell you that?"

"No. My mother did—when I was little. It's an opera now— _The Sundering of Avernal and Fenestra_. I'm surprised you haven't heard of it."

"What of your mother? Will she not intervene on your behalf?"

"If she were alive…"

"Forgive me."

"You couldn't have known. I miss her..." She gazed off into the distance and I trapped her tears between my fingers.

She looked up at me, dark eyes heavy with sleep. "Do you need me to help you keep watch?"

"No—you sleep."

"You know something, Ares? I don't think it matters…"

"What doesn't?"

"What you look like underneath…" She pressed her lips against my mask and lingered there for a moment. "Good night, my lord."

She settled on the thermal blanket with my supply pack for a pillow. I stood, still paralyzed by her words and the kiss I couldn't feel. I followed her movements through the mirage above the fire, marvelling at the interplay of firelight and shadow dappling her skin. If pressed, I could not recall a more bewitching sight.

I turned away and looked to the stars, but they held no revelation for me, any more than the stream murmuring at my feet. When I was certain she slept, I stripped my armour to wash away the salts coating my body. I ate and drank and answered my body's demands. I cleaned my armor and collected wood to feed the fire. Submitting to mundane chores often brought solutions in their wake, but not this time.

The night passed like a prison sentence. I tumbled into an abyss of stars and took up another man's sword to fight a doomed cause. I bartered with death and donned an ebonizing cloak that devoured my presence until the final moment when I would reveal my face to the condemned.

Somewhere beyond my awareness flocks of birds nattered and someone called to me. The world shook and an annoying light chafed my eyes.

"Ares…wake up. Wake up…someone's coming," she hissed.

I scrambled to my feet and my hand hovered over the hilt of my lightsaber. She'd had the presence of mind to dash out the fire and collect our things. A thin fog lifted to meet the sunrise.

"Stay behind me." I drew my weapon and reached out with the Force. The brush folded under the thrust of several approaching speeders and the regal purple banners of House Thul came into view. A dozen heavily armored battle droids flanked the party, weapons at the ready.

The man leading the party brought his speeder to a halt and signalled his party to do the same.

He dismounted and approached. "Darth Marr?

"Yes…"

"I am Lento Azar, Captain of the Guard, House Thul." He bowed deeply. "We're relieved to find you well, my lord. When you failed to arrive last night, Duke Bartok and Lord Umbros dispatched a scouting party. We found evidence of a crash beyond the guard path in the hive lands."

"My shuttle experienced a technical malfunction and I was forced to land in hostile territory." I returned my lightsaber to the holster on my left hip.

"Duke Bartok will be delighted to learn of your survival. And who stands with you, my lord?"

"My captive."

She took a bold step forward. "I'm Liaseph Teraan…of the House Teraan, and Lady of the Alsakan Riverlands, daughter of Duke Cedon."

"Cuff her…and see her to the dungeon upon our return to the palace," Azar commanded his men.

She clung to my elbow. "Lord Marr?"

I raised my hand to stay her concern. "No need, Captain. She's offered no resistance and will be treated as my guest, until further notice. She is to be offered the same hospitality as any respected visitor."

"Of course, my Lord."

"Your duke and I have urgent business and this delay has already cost us."

"Understood my lord, if you'll come with me, I'll show you and your _guest_ to your transport."

A vessel roared above, the grasses swaying as it dropped in altitude to loom over us. A Jedi leapt from the craft, ice blue saber igniting upon his landing. "Liaseph, thank the Force you're alive." He beckoned to her with an upturned palm.

A pair of troopers dropped to flank him, the rest of the squad queued to follow.

Her eyes grew large, but as the young Miralukan Jedi moved forward, she backed away.

The Jedi took another step closer. "I've been searching for you all night. Your father's been worried sick—are you hurt?"

"No, I'm well. Thank you."

"Come away from him…" The Jedi urged as he crept closer.

"That will do, Jedi." I summoned my lightsaber and blocked his approach. "Take her away, Captain. Now!"

Azar seized her and his men and droids took aim.

"Don't hurt him, he's my friend!" Liaseph cried out, but whether she was speaking to the Jedi, or to me, was unclear.

The thrusters of the transport rumbled and faded as Azar put distance between us.

I swung my blade in challenge. "Master _Rylister_ , I presume…"

((to be continued…))


	16. Chapter 16

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Fifteen~**

 _Restraint is not weakness, but mastery over our basest urges._

The troop carrier landed on the swaying grass, kicking up whorls of silt from along the stream banks. Republic troopers bustled into position, their weapons at the ready—a mirror image of House Thul's forces.

The Jedi raised his hand to stay his troops. "Hold your fire. I wish to speak to you, Sith. Perhaps we can settle this peacefully through negotiation."

He retracted his lightsaber, and for the time being, I matched his gesture and folded my arms.

"Then speak."

"You know _my_ name—to whom am I speaking?"

"Who I am, will not affect the outcome. Say what you must, there are limits to my patience."

"Surely you can see she's only a girl and is of no tactical advantage to you."

"And yet, you expect me to believe a girl of so little worth, warrants a Jedi Master championing her release. She would be dead if not for my intervention."

"Yes, and for that, I'm grateful. I saw the Killiks and their shattered hives. I've served House Teraan for several years. Liaseph is a trusting girl and because you rescued her, she thinks of you as her friend."

"Then she is deluded. I have no interest in being her friend."

"Of course you don't—I sense the truth in your words. You want something more. Name your terms…perhaps a ransom."

"You've been among nobility for too long if you believe credits are the answer."

"Her father is sick with worry."

"Hmph, I'm sure he is."

"Then perhaps an exchange. The Organas have several prisoners in custody. I can negotiate with them. All I want is the girl safely returned to her family."

"A family she chose to flee in favour of death or capture—what does it say about them, that she prefers to be my prisoner? What does it say, that they are not here, but _you_ are?"

"I don't know what you're implying, Sith. I'm a Jedi master and paladin to House Teraan. As such, I would like to resolve this peacefully—and in such a way that your superiors would approve."

"Hmph. My superiors," I scoffed. "Unless you mean to petition the Emperor himself, we are finished here."

"I'm warning you, Sith."

"You're warning _me_?" I chuckled, the sound low and cold in the back of my throat.

"You will release the girl and leave us in peace."

The Jedi's words tumbled over a subtle flourish of fingers. The gesture in itself was easy to miss, but the wheedling suggestion that accompanied it was meant to bore into the mind and twist the will.

"A desperate and foolhardy attempt on your part…" I snarled. At my bidding, the darkness rose from the ground, its coiling tendrils constricting the Jedi and his men where they stood. The troopers clawed at their throats, writhing for the want of air and when the clatter of their armored limbs stilled, I released them.

The Jedi hovered before me and I loosened my grip.

"You didn't have to kill those men," he choked out.

"It was yourlack of respect that killed them."

The darkness roiled around me, its whispers craving for the Jedi's death.

A faint silvery glow escaped the edges of the Miraluka's visor as he turned his Force vision on me. "I see nothing but a void, when I look at you…such intense and refined hatred. What have you done to yourself? You've sacrificed your humanity…for this… _curse_."

"Your prattle means nothing to me, Jedi."

"I've underestimated you, Sith. Take _me_ as your hostage…but release the girl. Surely some spark of decency still exists within you…why else would you save her?"

"My motives are my own. We are finished."

"You may kill me, but she _will_ be freed, one way or another. This isn't the last of it."

"No, I don't expect it will be." I seized the air in my fist and tightened my grip until he lost consciousness.

The Jedi landed in a heap at my feet and after considering my rival's selflessness, I turned my back to him and returned to the remainder of Azar's men. Cowed by the darkness, they parted to allow me past them, their mouths gaping.

I claimed one of their speeders and mounted it.

"Report to your Captain for debriefing and new orders. Dismissed."

After giving the men a head start, I set off for Thul palace in Kaamos Territory.

* * *

The better part of the day was lost to travel. By the time I arrived at Kaamos, the sun hung low on the horizon, most of it already swallowed by the mountains. The uppermost spires of Thul palace appeared to be dipped in gold, while the rest, untouched by the sun, were the lackluster grey of an aged blaster. Even the sun understood the nature of nobility—vulgar beings masquerading as something more with their gilded finery.

This moment solidified what I had always suspected—character is not forged through wealth and privilege but through hardship and trial. Every man should be at their best when they want for nothing, but from my brief time on this world, it seemed there were lessons the nobility still needed to learn.

I set aside my fatigued musings and ascended the endless steps leading to the grand hall within the palace.

Massive marble columns held up the painted vaulted ceilings like labourers, while rows of aurodium seraphs flanked the red carpet road leading to the throne. The great hall had one goal—to inspire and intimidate its visitors with the power of wealth and I am loathe to admit, that for a few moments, I looked upon these trappings like the slave I had once been.

I strode forward, thankful my awed reaction remained well hidden behind the placid indifference of the durasteel guarding my face.

Captain Azar met me half way to the throne and bowed. "My Lord, I trust your travels were free of any further incident?"

"They were…but surely there must be a more efficient means of travelling such distances…"

"Oh, but there is my lord—we rely heavily on our stable of thrantas. Fast, silent and direct—an ideal means of transportation. We hope to phase out speeders for all but local transit within the next five years. Duke Bartok has created an extensive breeding program—he hopes one day to use them in military applications—an air force if you will. That alone should give us an edge over the Organas."

"An admirable objective—aerial strikes would be most advantageous here."

"I think you and Duke Bartok will find you have a great deal in common. May I announce you now?"

"By all means." I indicated he continue with an upturned palm.

The Captain paused to whisper to the Herald of Arms. A moment later, a quartet of men donning red and purple tabards flanked the Herald. An ensemble of Alderaanian flutes issued a brief musical burst.

The Herald marched into position before us. "Darth Marr of the Dark Council, may I introduce The Duke of Kaamos, His Grace, Bartok Thul."

"Lord Marr, a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last. Welcome to House Thul."

"Thank you." I bowed my head slightly in deference.

"I see you're acquainted with my Captain of the Guard. He informed me of the incidents bedeviling your arrival."

"I regret the delay."

"No more than I. And may I also introduce Lord Umbros, apprentice to a colleague of yours, Darth Ravage. He's been most helpful during our restoration. It wouldn't have been possible without the aid of our Empire."

Lord Umbros nodded, but the sharp glint in his yellow eyes suggested annoyance at my presence and perceived interference. "My lord…welcome," he bit out.

The apprentice struck me as being every bit as petty and brusque as his master.

"The alliance we forge here is imperative—and to forge this bond, it is of the utmost importance we understand each other."

"I could have kept you apprised of the climate without the necessity of your presence here," Umbros clipped.

"Some matters are better tended personally."

"I do hope you'll be joining us for dinner and in the ballroom after. My wife, Lady Kalana has quite outdone herself," Duke Bartok announced.

"Thank you, but I must decline. Another time perhaps. Kindly extend my regrets to Her Grace."

"A pity our guest of honour will be absent, but understandable, given your arduous journey. I regret our son Kendoh is away, but young men of sport won't be denied the annual hunt. I would have liked for you to meet him."

"Likewise."

"I'll have supper sent to your rooms. And if you do have a change of heart, know that you are most welcome."

I canted my head slightly. "Before I take my leave, what of my captive?"

"Ah yes, Lady Teraan. You will find her sequestered in the room neighbouring your suite. My wife had her tended by her personal Lady's maid, as per the request you made to Captain Azar. If you'll accompany my man Geruss," the duke indicated his servant, "he'll show you to your rooms, my lord. Rest well."

"Indeed, we have much to discuss tomorrow."

"I look forward to it, Lord Marr."

* * *

Time did not pass quickly here. Bathing, grooming, and dining barely consumed an hour and though every luxury imaginable was within easy reach, I grew restless. After half-heartedly perusing the biblio and holo selections available for my entertainment, I sloughed the night clothing the servants had provided and dressed.

Perhaps foregoing the dinner and ball had been a mistake and for a moment I entertained joining the festivities—but if I were honest…I didn't wish to spend my time with many—only one.

Despite my best efforts to put the girl from my thoughts, snippets of the previous night haunted me until I found myself edging the door open to her rooms.

I stood in the doorway, not daring to venture any further. The sudden urge to return to my rooms, unseen and undiscovered was almost overpowering, and then I saw her.

She stood on the balcony, dressed in Thul colours—shades of purple and red mingling into a darker shade I couldn't name. Her hair had been freshly coiled and braided, a single plait dangling over her exposed back. Mindlessly she paced and stared out into the night, wringing the shawl in her hands until it resembled a coarse rope.

As if sensing she was no longer alone, she whirled around. My breath caught and I was struck speechless. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes danced.

"You're alive!" She tossed aside the tortured shawl and raced toward me, but before reaching me, she stopped as if she'd struck an invisible barrier. "Master Rylister…does this mean that he's…that he's…" Her lower lip quaked.

"Your Jedi will recover."

"Thank you. He didn't hurt you, though, did he?"

I glanced about the room, careful to avoid her face. The room was sumptuously appointed and had every amenity she could want for. The small table in the corner held the remainder of her meal but hadn't been cleared yet. "I shouldn't have come." I turned away to leave.

"Ares—wait—please don't go. Stay and talk with me for a while?"

I nodded but remained rooted inside the doorway. "I don't know what there is to discuss."

"I wanted to thank you…Master Rylister means well, but I can't go back home. After this, I'll be even more the prisoner there…than here. The Thul's have been very gracious to me. Her Grace, Lady Kalana even paid me a personal visit—she gave me this dress as a gift—she thought I might wear it to the ball tonight. Do you like it?" She spun around—the near translucent material fanning around her in an elegant spiral.

"I'm pleased that you've been treated well, but you can't remain here indefinitely," I observed.

She moved past me and closed the door. "Come in. I won't bite. Even if I did, I doubt it would get through all this," she ran her fingertips down my arm and laughed brightly.

My lip edged up under my mask and I obeyed. "Why didn't you go to the ball—you seem the sort to enjoy such a festivity?"

"I couldn't. How could I? I've been on tenterhooks the whole day. I've been watching, waiting for word. I can't tell you how relieved I was when I saw you standing there."

"Liaseph…"

"What is it? Is something troubling you?" She approached me, easily and without fear and clasped my hands.

"A great deal troubles me…"

"Will you tell me? I can be a good listener if I set my mind to it."

I shook my head, reluctant to speak my mind, perhaps for the first time in my life—for fear of what the answers might mean. The truth is seldom kind, but I was unable to leave it be. "What do you see happening here…"

"I don't know what you mean? You're starting to worry me."

My hands closed around hers. "You should be worried…you should be more than worried. You should be afraid."

"I could never be afraid of you, Ares…I've never met anyone like you. You're brave, kind…honourable…strong."

"You don't _know_ me. You've idealized who I am and what I am is Sith—more than Sith. If you knew all I was capable of and what I've done…and would do—you would flee." I hurled my arm toward the door.

"I don't care—I know how you've treated me. You _respected_ me…more than my own family ever has. You spared Master Rylister because _I_ asked you to. That's more than anyone has ever done for me. In a world…where I don't…where I don't matter, have _never_ mattered, you've given me everything."

"I should've killed the Jedi—if for no other reason than to wipe his name from your lips and this foolishness from your heart," I snarled.

"You are in a position to do whatever you want…but you haven't. Because you _respect_ me. Unless it's because you don't find me attractive…" She pretended to muse aloud.

"Don't toy with me. This is not a game, Liaseph!"

"Please don't be angry with me. Do you want to know why I didn't go to the ball? It's because I was waiting for _you_. I hoped you would come back. I wore this…for _you_."

I stood, still and silent as if she'd slapped me. "Do you want to leave this world so badly, that you would seduce me? That you would give yourself to some faceless killer?" I whispered.

She backed away as if I'd struck her. "Is _that_ what you think I'm doing? I wanted to get to know you…you make me feel things, I've never felt and may never feel again."

"Consider my position…what would _you_ think. Do you not see how it might seem? You wish to leave this place…and I—I am your only prospect for doing so."

"For someone so strong…you think little of yourself. I see why you wear all this… _regalia_. Especially that damn mask." She threw her arms up and the burgeoning tears in her eyes escaped the dam of lashes holding them back. "You hide behind it. You don't want to let anyone in. You're the mighty Sith lord…better than us mere mortals, because you can hide. I can't…I only wish I could."

She turned away and stared out at the night, the gauzy sheer draperies wafting in the breeze around her.

I stood on a precipice. Disaster waited for me no matter which direction I chose. I approached her and clasped her shoulders. "Liaseph…"

She shrugged free of my hold. "Do your prisoner exchange. Send me back to my father. The only way I can prove my sincerity is to ask you to leave."

Visions of another bedding her against her will came unbidden—along with the consequences that would come with forced intimacy…I shook my head, hoping to chase the vision of a freedom bought with a bloody finality. I wanted her for myself. That was the answer. I would take her for myself…but only after she understood what it meant.

"It's not the _only_ way…" I sighed. "I sense the truth in your words."

She turned around slowly. "What does that mean?"

"It means…I don't want to return you. I would free you from _this_. But what I offer is no improvement. You have no understanding of what a life with me would be like. You would be lonely. You would dwell in uncertainty—never knowing if I would return to your side. Whether battle or an enemy claimed my life. You would be in danger simply because of your association with me."

"I don't care about any of that. I don't need anyone else, just _you_. I would be happy...and I would wait for you. I would make a world all our own—we need no one else."

I brushed my fingertips over her lips to hush her. "Let me finish. You are young—far younger than I. I know the ways of the world—and you… _you_ are only learning. As I told you...I've sworn my life to protect the Empire…we'd rarely be together—and no matter your feelings toward your friends and family now…after a time you would realize that I took you from them because make no mistake, there is a finality that comes with your decision. You will never again see your father, or your sister or the Jedi. _That_ is the price to be paid—there is no turning back. Do you understand?"

"I do…"

She reached up and traced the grooves etched into my mask and cupped my cheek. I set my hand over hers and held it there.

"Will you help me take this off? I want to see you," she murmured.

I led her hands to the fastenings. With nimble fingers, she unlocked the frontispiece and I turned away to remove the mask and helmet.

"Cover your eyes."

"They're covered. I promise I won't peek. But if you look like a ginx, it's over."

I laughed. "I thought it didn't matter…"

She smirked. "I suppose I can always ask you to put it back on."

I set the pieces aside and shook out my hair. Some time had passed since I'd cut it last and it hung past my jaw in messy waves. I took her wrists and drew her hands away from her face. "Open your eyes, Liaseph. Look at me."

Her gaze fixed solidly on mine and my lip twitched up with an uncertain smile. "Do you approve?"

She grazed the stubble along my jaw with the pads of her fingers and beamed. "You'll do nicely," she teased.

I caught her wrist and held her in place for a moment—long enough to make her wonder what I might do next, and when I saw a glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes, I pulled her body against mine.

"Your eyes," she managed. "They're so blue…"

I brushed my lips against hers, testing for a kiss and when she matched it with a gentle seeking of her own, I claimed her mouth fully and deeply. She burned and writhed like a flame in my arms.

We drew apart only when breathing became a priority again and I caressed the swell of her cheek with my thumb. I sensed her nervousness through the Force and through the involuntary quivering of her body against mine. "Do you need more time to think?"

She shook her head. "No…I've decided. We'll leave here together, yes?"

I nodded. "Tell me then…now that I've removed my mask…are you still a lady?" I favoured her with a wolfish gaze, all too keenly aware of the bed's proximity and the stirrings she'd inflamed.

"Not anymore. I'm _yours_."

((to be continued…))


	17. Chapter 17

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Sixteen~**

 _Of all the stars in the galaxy, I chose you, and you chose me._

Each night, after House Thul had grown dark and silent, Liaseph and I would prowl the darkened halls, hand in hand, and make our escape to the gardens. Night meant freedom—freedom from the responsibilities that came with the mask and freedom from propriety.

She would clap her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles and I was her shadow. We were children for the first time in our lives, our blood aquiver with mischief and joy.

I'd watch her on the garden swing. To my horror, she would propel herself to reckless heights and laugh as if she'd never tasted such freedom before. Had I not promised to take her from this place, I was certain she would find a way to wing into the heavens and leave on her own.

She caught the worry in my posture and beamed at me, a radiant blur of happiness. "Don't worry…if I fall, you'll catch me."

"Don't be so certain…seeing you fly headlong into the pond might be amusing for both the ginx _and_ me."

"The pair of you could be twins..."

"Shall I offer it my mask," I teased.

"Couldn't hurt, it did wonders for you," she said, not missing a beat.

The truth, of course, was that I _would_ catch her, and with each passing day, I came to realize there was little I wouldn't do for her. She'd taken a burdened heart and made it light.

I was a man chained to a comet—this was how life was meant to be lived, fully and without restraint or apology. She had the passion of a Sith, but none of their cunning or malice. If I were, to be honest, I would need to admit, there had been sleepless nights, when I wondered what Dromund Kaas—what _my_ people—would do to such a vibrant innocence and what I might do if they destroyed it.

Some nights, we would barely speak—it was enough to simply exist side by side. We would explore the dry gardens that lay to the west of the castle. Mounds of evergreens were islands in a sea of intricately raked stone, masquerading as water. The pathways carried us far from the palace and under the starlight, we would dance, the wind and shivering trees as our music.

Time was an inconsistent master—the days lasted an age, while the night was fleeting in its turn. I could scarce believe a month's worth of nights had already passed.

She was quiet tonight. As we walked the now familiar path to the most secluded garden, she ran her fingertips over the purple globe flowers lining the path. Even this simple gesture served to bewitch me. She stopped and turned to face me, and I drew her hand to my lips and nuzzled the soft fragrant flesh.

"Ares…"

"Mmm?"

"You never speak of your work…is everything going well?"

I pulled her closer. "Thoughtful of you to ask." The determined glint in her eyes told me the question was more than idle curiosity. "Well enough, though far too slowly for my tastes. They do nothing quickly, every detail is discussed to death in their committees. They are thorough to the extreme and I do have a mission that I must complete—it should take no more than a day or two…but I suspect this isn't what you really want to know. Why mince words with me now? You're free to always speak your mind."

"I know." She pressed her hands over my heart and gazed up at me for a long time. "I'm sorry…I'm nervous." She lowered her gaze and slipped her hands inside my robes, her hands cool against my skin.

"Why?"

"I'm worried. I have…a bad feeling. I'm afraid I'll lose you—don't go on that mission."

"Liaseph…I must. It's the reason why I'm here. House Ulgo is conspiring against Thul. Intelligence informs me they have a weapon—if they were to initiate it, Kaamos Territory would be overrun by millions of Killiks in a matter of moments. The insects would swarm, destroying everything in their wake. Thul would be at their mercy. I can't allow that to happen. I warned you about the dangers—losing me will always be a possibility." I tipped her chin up but the abject sadness in her eyes begged a kinder approach.

"But know this," I pressed a kiss into her hands and trapped them between my own. "So long as there is life in this body, I will never willingly leave you—but that is the only reassurance I can give you. That is my oath."

"I would never willingly leave you either—I love you."

"And I, you." I caressed her hands, kneading warmth into them. "There's more on your mind…I sense it."

"What if I told you, I overheard the servants talking—Kendoh and his party are late returning from the hunt."

"I'm sure if there was a reason for concern they would have come to me by now. The boy is headstrong—irresponsible. No doubt he's prolonging the hunt to spare himself his duties—a flaw he would be wise to rectify if he means to rule one day."

"I suppose you're right—I'm worrying for nothing. When you finish your mission…is that it? Will we go to Dromund Kaas then?"

"Depending on the outcome—we may need to remain a few more weeks. That's what this is about isn't it…you're afraid your family will come for you."

"It's crossed my mind. I can't go back—if they learned the truth…wings of the thranta…" She blanched.

"No one would dare take you from me." I lead her to the massive sundial at the heart of the dry garden and set her atop the stone disk.

"Where will we live on Dromund Kaas…?"

"I had hoped to surprise you...I've claimed land on the outskirts of Kaas City…we will need to live in my stronghold for a time…I've devoted few resources to it beyond security, but it will afford us time to consider the style of home you'd prefer—whatever you desire."

Her sadness and worry evaporated under a spark of excitement and I hoped that planning her future home would be an adequate distraction.

"We're going to have a house? Our very own house? And I'll be the mistress of it?"

"No…I thought perhaps that wretched ginx." I shot a sharp mocking look at the soggy jowled creature peering over at us from the adjoining garden, its yellow-green eyes aglow. I made a mental note of capturing the beast for her before leaving Alderaan.

She laughed and threw her arms around me, drawing me to her. "I've never been as happy as I am, right now."

"Nor have I." I held her face between my hands, delighting in the blush of her cheeks as my thumbs fanned over them.

A sparse dusting of snow began, the flakes catching her hair and lashes and the tip of her nose. I kissed them away one by one and fixed my attention on her lips. They were as lush and intoxicating as the sweetest drink and when she surrendered to me, I allowed myself to become lost in her. The heat in my body unfurled and I crushed her against me. She moaned into my mouth and broke the kiss long enough to reward me with a sly gaze.

"Love me…now," she whispered.

"Here? On this?"

She nodded and her lips crept up at the corners as she shimmied closer to the edge of the sundial.

I chuckled, the sound gruff and wanting. "You surprise me…"

She smiled impishly and with a boldness that shocked me, she pulled apart my robe and the cassock beneath it. She found me and held me in her hand, exploring with soft curious fingers and I held my breath.

My tongue lapped over my mouth at the brazen invitation and I saw the beginnings of a game of one-upmanship, both of us would win.

I bunched up the front of her skirts and repaid her teasing touches in kind until I felt a wet heat build under the fabric. She trapped me between her legs and I claimed her slowly.

"Do your worst, _my lord_."

The playful defiance in her voice and the wanton spark in her eye ignited something feral in me. I buried myself in her with an unrepentant fury. The heat built up between us, despite the falling snow.

She clung to me fiercely, her mouth and teeth grazing first my throat and then my collarbone. My breathing was ragged against her ear as I urged her right leg higher to quicken the rhythm. I drew in a sharp breath, each thrust claiming her more deeply and with a desperate urgency that she returned.

Goose-pimples ran up her calf and I smoothed them away under the heat of my hand. We were a tangle of limbs, each cleaving to the other amid breathy clouds and shuddering bodies. She cried out and I held her fast as I neared my own finish. I filled her belly with heat and the world quaked around us and fell away until all that remained was the blissful awareness of our connection.

We held each other close, both of us spent and panting. She shivered and I rearranged her skirts and my robe to cover us.

"It just gets better, doesn't it…the more we do this," she whispered.

"I told you it would…" I lifted her from the edge of the sundial's disk and set her down on the path. "I sense there is something more worrying you…"

"No…I'm just anxious…it'll pass, I'm sure."

I kissed the top of her head. "No one would dare interfere with us…"

She nodded quickly, perhaps too quickly, but said nothing.

I took her hand and pressed a kiss into it. "Come, let us return. Mornings come too quickly."

* * *

The next morning, I strode toward the conference room adjacent to the main hall. I quickened my pace, already an hour late. The previous night's pleasantries continued upon our return to the castle and I'd had precious little sleep. Through the Force, I sensed an unsettling shift in the palace's energies and mood, especially as I neared the grand hall.

Angry, fearful voices leaked out from the chamber, the echo reaching the clot of gossiping servants in the gallery above. Members of the court crowded the entrance and whispered amongst themselves. They dispersed at my arrival, and I paid them little mind.

Duke Bartok leapt to his feet and his cabinet fell into an uneasy quiet. "Lord Marr, at last, you're here."

"I was delayed. What's happened?" I took my place opposite Bartok.

"This…this is what's happened." He winced and covered the lower half of his face with the back of his hand. "Geruss, show it to Lord Marr."

"Yes, milord." Bartok's servant collected a shipping crate from the furthest corner of the room. The servant grimaced and retracted the lid to reveal the half eaten head of one of Thul's scouts, wrapped in an Ulgo flag. The putrid stench of killik gastric juices was unmistakeable.

I lifted the scout's dripping remains out of the box by the hair and inspected the interior. Bartok and his cabinet members turned away gagging.

Hidden beneath the flag was a holo-recording. "Have you listened to this?"

"No, Lord Marr, of course not. We didn't get _that_ far," Bartok hissed. "My lord…must you? We don't have your constitution," he gestured to the half-eaten head and heaved into his palm.

"Clearly." I dropped the head back into the box after a cursory examination of the remains, my mood being such that I enjoyed their disgust enough to laugh.

Upon inserting the bloodied holo-recording into the console the pale blue image of an older man wearing a Republic naval uniform sprouted from the imaging emitter.

" _House Thul—This is General Triskelion Ulgo. You have twenty-four hours in which to surrender your title and holdings and vacate Kaamos Territory voluntarily and return to exile. Should you fail to comply, you and your family will be forcefully removed by any means necessary, including terminal force. Let this be a message to you and the Empire—your presence is not welcome on Alderaan."_

"Oh dear, this is much worse than we realized," Bartok prattled. "What will we do? We cannot give up, these lands are rightfully ours! We'll send in troops! We need troops, Lord Marr. As many as you can muster!"

"No…no troops."

"What?! What do you mean by that? Surely you're not going to abandon us now? The Empire swore to support us! Your council gave its word."

"Mind your tone, Duke," I warned. "This is a trap. They're attempting to lure us into a pre-emptive strike. This means their weapon has a limited range. They're goading us…"

"But my lord…we _are_ still going to take the thing from them, aren't we?"

"Yes, but they won't expect one man alone. The troops will remain here."

"Who are you sending?"

"I'll be leaving within the hour. In the meantime, I expect you to see to my captive's comforts and safety. Understood?"

"Y-yes my lord, understood," Bartok stammered.

((to be continued…))


	18. Chapter 18

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Seventeen~**

 _Every goodbye could be the last._

From my vantage point, I could see the Juran Mountains in all their majesty. To the west, the future Outpost Bolym was well under construction, but still unfit to support my mission. House Alde, with its elegant towers, sprawled before me on the southern horizon—an impressive sight, but not as impressive as the Ulgo Fortress.

Built into the northernmost mountain range known as the Greater Jurans, the Ulgo Fortress was well concealed at ground level by stone outcroppings and a thick copse of pine. An aerial incursion might have been the answer, if not for the half-dozen anti-aircraft guns and sniper towers.

The valley contained three formidable obstacles—the Fornak River, the Lesser Jurans, and the Killik Hivelands—one of these natural defenses would make breaching the fortress a challenge, but to confront all three in the limited time I had would be impossible.

The Ulgos understood their few vulnerabilities and had more than compensated. For this reason, I considered them the most formidable noble House on Alderaan, even more so than the Organas. Where the Organas had valuable connections within the Jedi Order at their disposal, the Ulgos were a military family and strategy coursed through their veins as surely as blood. For now, a tenuous alliance existed between them, but I suspected in time, the Ulgo ambition to rule would overtake the need to remain on good terms with their allies. It was a pity the Ulgos didn't sympathize with the Empire, I might have achieved far more allied with them than with the conniving Thuls.

Bartok's personal thranta deposited me on the lowest elevation of the Greater Jurans to avoid detection by Ulgo sensors. The pale grey bridle and minimal saddle blended easily with the animal's body—and the domesticated thranta could be easily mistaken for one of its wild cousins that nest in the region.

I dismissed the creature with a triad of whistles and set about making the climb. Even with the Force as my ally, scaling the cliff to the next elevation was nothing short of arduous.

Four hours later, I breached the northwestern corner of the exterior wall and remained low amid the pine brush. I plucked my macrobinoculars from my pack to survey the grounds and installations.

As expected, the base was a flurry of activity, particularly around the armoury. Killing my way inside would attract too much attention, not to mention access to the armoury vault would require clearance. An incendiary diversion would send the base into lockdown—another outcome I would rather avoid. My binoculars skimmed past several troop carriers in the process of being loaded. I skimmed back to the site and tightened my focus. Four aerial carriers filled with men, the rest with munitions—an invasion force. I skimmed the fortress again, this time landing on the force dedicated to remaining on the site. If I were to speculate, they intended a two-pronged attack—here and at House Thul. Though divided, Ulgo had greater numbers and all of them were military. The convoy could not be allowed to leave.

A D-5 model astromech droid rolled into my line of sight and an idea struck me. I stowed the macrobinoculars into my pack and pulled my datapad. I zeroed in on the droid's frequency and attempted a simple command to establish control. If I failed, the command was innocuous enough not to raise any red flags.

Slicing was never one of my strong suits. I had little talent for it, but over the years, I'd compelled myself to keep apprised of the latest techniques for those times when the Force and the Darkness were inadequate to the task.

On my fourth attempt, the astromech whirled about twice, altering its path to roll toward me. It issued an inquiry at me and I muted its vocal emitter. It paused, dome swivelling as if resisting to come any closer. I tapped a series of frequencies into the datapad, rather like digital breadcrumbs, hoping to lure the droid to my location in the brush. It backed up, its eye glowing before it inched forward again.

The astromech's greatest innovation was its artificial curiosity, but at the same time, it was also its greatest downfall. The droid crept toward me with the same caution as a stray akk dog. It stopped before me within arm's reach, and upon registering what I am, it attempted to reverse.

I rooted the droid in place with the Force and switched it off. I would need to upload a string of new commands before it was missed. After prying open the front panel, I connected my datapad to the droid's processors. Bypassing its loyalty protocols was the greatest challenge and the one that concerned me most. I would know if I was successful after its systems rebooted. I deleted its previous orders, input my directives and after disconnecting my datapad, I slapped the panel shut. Now, to see if my slicing efforts would yield the desired result.

The droid whirred to life and spun around, dome swivelling. The D-5 unit showed no realization that anything had changed or that I was the enemy as it had before. After I was certain the reprogramming was successful, I reinitiated its vocal emitter and deployed it.

The unit left me and headed toward the armoury. It navigated through lines of troopers and droids preparing for battle and disappeared into the armoury. All that remained now, was the wait for the droid to execute my orders.

Time passed like a Thul cabinet meeting. After a quarter of an hour had passed, I began to question my work. Perhaps the droid had been discovered and thwarted; but if that were the case, an alarm would have been raised.

I reviewed the lines of code I'd patched in and frowned. Though I saw no obvious error, perhaps I'd failed. Perhaps I would need to take a more aggressive tack. I had hoped to launch the weapon and witness its efficacy personally before turning it over to the Thuls.

A pair of scouts moved toward me and I receded deeper into the brush. Their posture suggested trepidation.

"The frequencies were coming from around here," the corporal said.

The second corporal took a step forward. "We might have an intruder."

Both men drew their pistols and advanced cautiously.

"Maybe we should inform the general. It could be a Thul scouting party?"

"Not until we have something concrete first…remember the last time."

"Yeah, I doubt they'd ever let us live it down."

"No kidding."

With their pistols extended, they ambled in past the tree line. I willed my lightsaber to hand, my thumb hovering over the switch.

Weaving between the crunching footfalls of the approaching troopers, the jouncing rattle of wheels on uneven terrain raced closer. My jaw clenched.

 _The damn droid._

I cursed the unit's timing, but at the same moment came the relief of knowing that the alterations to the droid's programming had stuck. The D-5 unit whirred and beeped in protest and the troopers spun around.

I held my ground for the time being and observed.

"Stupid scrap bucket," the second corporal grunted.

"What's with the droid? Did it actually just tell us to drop our weapons?" The first trooper chuckled incredulously.

"Perhaps, you should've listened," I growled. With a flick of my hand, I knocked the men back. The first landed on his back. I leapt high and plunged my blade into his chest before he could get a shot off.

The surviving trooper scrambled to put distance between us and reclaimed his fallen weapon.

To his credit and my annoyance he managed a volley of bolts in my direction. My shield deflected his attack.

I hurled my saber at him, effectively cutting him down, but in so doing, I gained the attention of the men loading the transports. Their shouts ignited the others, and their alarm travelled in a chain reaction throughout the camp, until the stronghold forces mobilized, weapons at the ready and firing on my co-ordinates.

My shield shuddered under the incoming fire. I snatched my lightsaber from the air as it rebounded and batted away the incoming plasma bolts. I backed up. The droid warbled at my feet and extended its service claw toward me. It mewled and shook like an obedient pup as it presented its offering to me.

"The remote…hah." Victory would soon be at hand. I snatched the device from the droid's claw and depressed the detonator button.

Nothing happened.

I swore and clicked the button frantically. _Still_ nothing. I deflected another volley of incoming shots. For all I knew, the remote might have been stronghold's gate opener. With the Ulgo forces now only meters away and roaring toward me, I prepared to summon the darkness—a last resort. I sensed it clamouring for release, but another sensation asserted itself through the Force and I held the darkness at bay. The darkness champed at the sudden restraint and I fed off its frustration.

The ground tilted under my feet and erupted to swallow swathes of men before me. Killiks by the hundreds—no thousands—converged. Great oval shaped swarms plunged from the sky and formed devouring vortices that would eat a man alive where he stood.

Others pushed through the soil like weeds and from behind tree bark and stone cracks and over the walls—an enviable force moving as one; all sizes, all shapes, acid dribbling from their chittering mandibles.

I cut them down as they lunged at me, but I needed to remove myself to avoid being consumed.

Men shuddered and writhed on the ground as the acid ate away at them. A shadow passed over me and I glanced up.

The thranta.

I cleared the field before me. I whistled the triad of summoning notes Bartok had taught me and cut down the incoming insects.

I whistled again, this time, amplifying the sound with the Force.

The thranta swooped in low and using the Force I leapt onto its back. Insects in pursuit threw themselves at the massive avian beast. I kicked one away and punched another, shattering its jaw. I reignited my blade and cleared the rest away as they came.

The creature cooed and rose higher with its wings cleared. I retracted my lightsaber and reached into my pack for the macrobinoculars. The killiks below moved on to easier prey and I was amazed at how quickly they abandoned us—the insects understood how to cut their losses. If they could be communicated with and recruited, the Empire would have a disposable army second to none.

I pulled up sharp, hoping to put enough distance between us and the swarming clouds of insects, below. The thranta's wings bled at the edges, but the stoic creature pressed on. I drove the beast higher and higher until the air chilled. I circled the fortress for three-quarters of an hour to observe and I was at once impressed and revolted by the Killik swarm's efficiency.

I thought they would depart once their bloodlust had been sated, but instead, something else happened—the creatures clutched their heads, unable to tolerate the weapon's frequency any longer.

They fell writhing and screaming to the ground and died. I sensed their passing in the Force as a great wave—and I understood something more of their nature—they were a hive mind; they existed together, fought together, and died together. Their unity followed them into death and I found myself impressed by these beings. They warranted further study and upon my return to Dromund Kaas, I would enlist the finest minds to examine them. If such insects could be turned to our use, perhaps so too could the more articulate aliens we've discounted thus far. I would find a use for them all within the Empire.

The creatures perished, but a weak life force remained. I urged the thranta to land and slid off its shoulder to complete my mission. I walked the grounds and came upon a half-eaten man, remarkably still alive. I plunged my lightsaber into his chest and ended him and those like him. After I had accumulated sufficient data about the fortress and its grounds, I strode toward the armoury.

A shrill chirp cried out from across the field and the D-5 unit raced toward me. Spattered with blood and acids the droid had survived the onslaught. I removed a rag from my pack and wiped the corrosive fluids from the droid's dome to avoid damage to its data banks.

After tending to it, the droid raced ahead of me, seemingly out of gratitude. It paused at the entry panel and plunged its tool arm into the interface to open the shield doors.

I continued on cautiously, the droid at my side. At each doorway, it eagerly raced ahead to clear my path until I was inside the experimental weapons vault. After dispatching a pair of republic battle droids, I advanced to the console.

The weapon whirred and shuddered and waves of steam shot from its core. I shut it off and while I waited for it to cool, I downloaded the databanks and examined the contents of the vault.

After the prototype had reached a safe handling temperature, I packed it into a shipping case and returned to the thranta. I lashed the case to its back and was about to mount the avian when the astromech chirped an inquiry.

I sighed and lashed the droid to the thranta as a counterweight to the shipping case. After a final look around, I settled into the thin saddle and urged the beast skywards to return to the castle and to Liaseph.

* * *

The thranta set down in the courtyard and I passed its reins off to one of the stable keepers for tethering.

"Tend to the beast's injuries and have the droid and cargo delivered to the conference room."

The servant bowed low. "Yes, my lord. At once."

The troops parted to allow my passage into the castle and I sensed an unsettling and somber vibration through the Force, as I neared the conference room.

Bartok Thul sat alone at the conference table, his head between his hands.

I was almost upon him when he finally looked up at me. His hands shook and his skin paled visibly at my presence. "My lord, you've returned." He sipped from his water goblet, the contents sloshing over the brim onto the table. "I trust the mission was a success?"

"I've secured the weapon, and a droid containing useful intel." I slid the datapad containing all I'd downloaded toward him. "Weapons schematics and a detailed blueprint of the fortress are contained here."

"Did the weapon…did it _work_?"

"Yes. However, the prototype is prone to overheating. Modifications to the venting system need to be implemented."

"And what of the killik swarms?"

I smashed my fist against the table. "Don't pretend the killiks matter to you, Bartok. You're keeping something from me. Speak."

"My lord…yes," he cleared his throat, stalling. "While you were away…we received a transmission from House Teraan."

"And?"

The duke stammered and wrang his hands.

"Out with it!"

"They had my son. They were going to kill him if I didn't go through with it…"

"Go through with what," I snapped. "What did you do?"

"We had no choice. They wanted a prisoner exchange—my son…for the girl. _Your_ girl." Bartok winced. "He's my only son and heir. My wife was distraught, I _had_ to save him."

"You gave _my_ captive, the one I told you to protect, back to the Teraan?"

"They were going to kill my boy."

"You couldn't have waited until I returned?" I snatched at the air. The Force lifted the Duke from his feet and I watched him writhe and twitch before me, his face darkening as he clamoured to keep from choking.

"My…m-lord…forgive…me. L-Lord Umbros…arhgh ack…He…said…y-you would…understand."

"Lord Umbros…was _mistaken_."

A shrill scream sounded behind me and Lady Kalana raced toward me, throwing herself at my feet. "My lord I beg you, please…don't kill him. Our son…they were going to murder him in cold blood. I couldn't bear losing him. Kill me instead, it's my fault. Spare my husband my lord, I beg of you."

I glanced down at the sobbing woman at my feet and dropped Bartok.

The duke collapsed, coughing and sputtering as he tried to recover enough to stand.

"Your wife has more courage than you and your men together, Bartok. Where is Lady Teraan now?"

Lady Kalana raced to her husband's side. "They took her home. Poor thing. If not for my son's life…I wouldn't have allowed it. They…had to sedate her. She was distraught. She cried out for you, my lord. She said she loved—" Her lower lip quivered, her gaze shifting as if there was more to say but she'd lost her nerve.

"Your worthless son be damned, I ought to kill you _all_. Your word means nothing. There isn't a shred of honour among you," I snarled. "Where is Umbros?"

"I am here," Lord Umbros called from the doorway. "You would threaten our allies, Marr? Risk our missions and our only connection to this world over some wretched girl you picked up in the wilderness? I think my master would find it useful to know how you've been spending your time here, as would the rest of the Dark Council. The great Darth Marr besotted with a piece of Alderaanian tras—harghh…"

I lifted him off his feet and cranked my hand hard. The sound of a neck breaking echoed through the conference room and when Umbros's corpse fell to the floor in a heap, I stepped over it and left House Thul for the last time.

((to be continued…))


	19. Chapter 19

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Eighteen~**

 _Adversity is the slayer of innocence._

The thranta I'd stolen swooped in low over House Teraan. I dismounted midflight and rolled onto the roof to land in a crouch behind the power generator.

Several well-placed security cameras panned to and fro, monitoring the rooftop garden and the grounds below. After learning the timing of the cameras, I sprinted in short bursts from one undetectable location to the next, until I reached the access at the far end.

I peered over the edge of the roof. Only a handful of antiquated battle droids paced the courtyard, rusty joints creaking from the lack of a proper oil bath.

Clouds blotted out the stars, making a dark night all the darker, but even in the dim light, I could see House Teraan had fallen into disrepair. The towers were pitted and riddled with lightning shaped cracks. Vines had taken hold and devoured entire sections. Without the benefit of servants and gardeners, the manicured gardens had grown unruly, feral sprigs jutting from once sculpted boxwoods and junipers.

Only the perimeter walls had been maintained, giving the illusion that there was something worth protecting inside. The anti-personnel guns mounted on every other pilaster drooped from a lack of maintenance.

I dashed my lightsaber against the access hatch and dropped into a storage room. After navigating the maze of broken and obsolete equipment, I found the entrance to the main house and emerged on the second-floor gallery.

Security cameras lined the balcony overlooking the grand hall and I rammed my blade into them as I passed. Unlike every other security measure in House Teraan, the cameras were new—top of the line equipment rivaling even that of Hutt casinos.

' _I'll be even more the prisoner…'_

Liaseph's words haunted me and I understood. Her father had installed them, not as a security measure against intruders, but as a means of imprisoning her.

A stifled gasp sounded behind me and I whirled around. A young blonde woman in a white nightgown stared at me with bleary green eyes. Her lip quivered and her gaze remained locked on my mask.

"Where's Liaseph," I hissed.

"You're the Sithlord—you came for her."

"And you, you must be Lenaar—her sister, yes?"

The girl nodded and palmed the lower half of her face as she started to back away. Tears tumbled down her cheeks and her skin flushed.

"Where is she?"

She didn't answer, instead choosing to flee.

"Wait—Lenaar…"

The woman sprinted through the camera debris with bare feet and tumbled forward onto her hands and knees. I caught her by the waist as she scrambled to her feet. She struggled against me and I clapped my hand over her mouth.

"Tell me where she is and I won't harm you," I hissed against her ear. "Now I ask you again, where is she?"

I loosened my hold enough to allow her to answer but instead, she cried out and fought harder.

Down the hall, a door creaked open and a dark haired portly man brandishing a candelabra emerged.

"Father! The Sith, he's _here_! Run father!" Lenaar wailed.

I tightened my hold on her and marched her toward her father. "Give Liaseph to me, and I will leave you both in peace."

"You don't think I know what that means? Sith filth. You've ruined her and you've ruined us! She was _betrothed_ , and you turned her into your —"

I choked the words from his throat and disarmed him. The candelabra rolled off the edge of the gallery balcony, the crash echoing below.

"No…that was _you_ when you tried to sell her to some cretin to restore your prestige. That a girl would flee her own family in favor of a Sith Lord says a great deal more about you, than me."

"You ruined all I worked for. She would have been respected…and safe."

"She tried to _kill_ herself. But so long as your precious status is restored, what does her wellbeing matter to you?" I dropped him to his knees. "You're trying my patience. Tell me where she is."

"Never. She'll never be yours. You'll have to kill me, Sith."

"So be it."

I flung them both against the wall, holding them fast with the Force. "Tell me!"

"I don't know…I don't know," Lenaar sobbed the words like a mantra.

"But _he_ knows…and you _will_ tell me," I growled through gritted teeth.

"Never," Teraan bit out. "I only have one daughter now. There is no place here for a Sith ."

I flung salvos of lightning at the duke until smoke lifted through his night clothes and I could smell the stench of charred flesh and piss.

"Tell me!" I roared.

Lenaar whimpered, tears streaking her face. "He won't…"

"Enough." I paced and shook my head. "Is she with Baliss?"

"No…she's alive, but that's _all_ I know. I swear."

"Lenaar!" Teraan snapped. "You little fool. He's the enemy. He ruined us. We're no more than peasants now because of _him_."

I turned the Force on them both, crushing their throats until the bone and cartilage popped and crackled. I eased my assault long enough for them to catch their breath and answer. When neither spoke, I electrified them until they twitched and fouled the floor beneath them.

I relented for the last time. "You're wasting my time. Where is she? I will _not_ ask again."

Teraan turned his face away and refused to speak.

Lenaar sobbed. "Please don't kill us, I beg you."

"Then tell me what you've done with Liaseph. Where do I find her?"

"I can't, I'm sorry. I don't know, Sith. I don't know."

"Teraan…your daughter does not wish to die. This is your last chance."

"Burn in hell, you murderous dog!"

"Oh…it won't be _me_ that burns," I drawled.

I turned a final barrage of lightning on the simpering girl until her body ignited and her screams echoed through the palace. I dropped the charred body, clouds of ashes rising around it as it crashed against the marble floor.

I stepped over the blackened heap and stood before Teraan. I seized his jaw and forced him to look at me. "Lenaar's suffering will be nothing compared to yours."

"Then do it, Sith. End it, but know this, you will _not_ win."

"It is you, who will not win. I will find her, Teraan."

The defiance in his eyes fuelled my rage. I burned him slowly and when the pain threatened to plunge him into merciful unconsciousness, I roused him back to awareness. I continued this way for nearly an hour before his heart gave out.

"I'm _not_ finished…" Despite my best efforts to revive him long enough to inflict another volley of torment, his heart remained a useless lump. Some things, not even the Force or darkness could restore.

I discarded the carcass and turned my back to it. I leaned heavily on the gallery railing and glared down at the grand hall. My heart hammered and my breathing came in shallow sullen bursts. The darkness clamored for control—the whispers in my mind howled, eager to glut themselves on my anguish until there was nothing left. I roared to silence them.

The perfection of the mosaic tile below infuriated me. I channeled the Force and leapt over the railing. I landed in the center of the elaborate design and plunged my fist into the pastel swirls that defined the Teraan family crest. The resulting wave shattered the mosaic and a fog of dust gathered around me as I stood.

I wandered the palace with a randomness that only comes with grief. I shattered the perfectly arranged heirlooms on their pedestals and in their alcoves and swore to myself, that if the opportunity to erase this accursed planet from the galaxy ever arose, I would do so and I would do so personally. I took delight in imagining these so called nobles on their hands and knees crawling through the rubble of their ruined world, and I took even more pleasure in watching them die horribly.

The buzz of a camera tracking my movements, drew my attention upwards and I paused to glare into its large intrusive eye.

The cameras…

With so many, surely there would be a control room—a room filled with recordings. I tore through the palace until I found the dingy room, hidden behind a massive gilt-framed landscape.

I tinkered with the console until the monitors flickered to life from their dormant state.

"Display security footage...commence replay on my mark…twelve hours ago should suffice. Fast forward…"

I drummed my fingers against the console as I scrutinized the activity, most of which was restricted to the grand hall. At the five hour mark, the sudden influx of people caught my interest. "Pause. Begin playback."

Duke Cedon Teraan met the Thul Captain of the Guard and his men. "Put her in the infirmary…Lenaar, my dear, show them the way."

"Yes, father."

Captain Azar gestured to his men, and the group disappeared down the hall.

Teraan summoned a pair of droids. "Retrieve Kendoh Thul and release him into Captain Azar's custody."

A moment later, the droids returned Kendoh Thul to his guard and my ire grew as I watched the young man whine and complain about his _confinement_.

"Blasted wretch knows nothing of imprisonment," I muttered. "Show me the infirmary."

Azar's men settled Liaseph on the medical bed and filed out, leaving only Lenaar behind.

I forwarded the recording and resumed playback when Liaseph regained consciousness.

"Lennie?" Liaseph sat up slowly and rubbed the sleep from eyes.

"You're safe now…you're home. I missed you, so much."

"I missed you too…where's father?" Liaseph glanced around suspiciously.

"He's talking to the Thul envoy…the Organas captured Kendoh Thul for us…so that we could get you back. You understand what's happening?"

Liaseph clasped Lenaar's hand. "Yes, but I need your help. I have to get out of here…"

"But why?"

"I can't marry Malon. I won't. I've met someone else."

"Who? Not one of those awful Thuls, I hope."

"No, no. If I tell you, you have to promise to keep it a secret."

"You're scaring me Li."

"Promise me."

"I promise, I swear." Lenaar drew closer to the bed. "Tell me."

"He's a Sith lord."

"A Sith lord! Are you mad?"

"I love him, Lennie. You promised. You can't say anything."

"I said I wouldn't…but what are you going to do about Malon? Your dress arrived yesterday for the fitting. Everything's been arranged."

"He won't want me any more than I want him. Help me. I have to get out of here."

"I don't understand…"

"I don't know what they'll do to me if I stay. You have to help me. Swear it."

"All right, I swear…but what's going on? He's been nothing but a pest about you. I've never seen anyone want something as much as he wants you. Why wouldn't he want you?"

"Because I won't pass the examining ceremony."

Lenaar gasped. "You…you did _that_ …with the Sith lord? Now I know you've lost your mind."

Liaseph blushed. "It's not just that…there's more. I can't stay Lennie. We're leaving Alderaan as soon as we can…I'm going to live with Ares."

"We'll lose everything. Father…will kill you."

"I know. That's why I have to get out of here. This is good bye, Lennie. Maybe we can write each other. I can't promise, but I _will_ try."

"So…you _want_ to run away with this Sith lord…for good. I don't like the sound of it. What if he's mean to you?"

"He won't be. Besides what do you think Malon will do to me when he finds out? I can't stay. I love Ares and I want to be with _him_."

"What about Master Rylister?"

"What about him? He could've helped me, but he didn't."

"This is…mad." Lenaar paced and rubbed at her temples.

"Get my things—the necklace and ear bobs mother left me…the music box you gave me for Life Day, oh and the crystal Master Rylister gave me for my birthday—you know, the blue one. That's all, I think. A picture of us if you can find one."

"Won't you miss us?"

"Of course, I'll miss you…I love you, Lennie, but this means everything to me…"

"I love you too. But what about me? What will I do without you?"

"You'll be all right…you belong here. You know how to play the game. You'll marry Blaxell Organa…you'll be happy."

Lenaar blushed. "Stay here and rest, all right?"

"Hurry, Lennie."

Lenaar threw back the door and was met by a stout matronly woman, a stocky young man with thinning blond hair and a medical droid. Lenaar gasped. "Malon…Matron Alona. When did you arrive?"

Liaseph's eyes grew wide and she blanched. "Malon…"

Matron Alona's stern gazed fixed on Liaseph and then narrowed.

"Your father told me about your ordeal…and I decided I didn't want to wait for you any longer," Malon oozed.

Liaseph sank into the pillows and drew up her blanket. "Surely you can wait another day…I'm exhausted."

Malon cracked his knuckles. "Very well. We'll have the wedding tomorrow…but there are formalities that need attending to before we can finalize our arrangement."

"Yes…the _formalities_ …"

"Matron Alona, if you'd kindly see to the examination," Malon said.

The tall broad shouldered woman in the grey habit inclined her head. "Of course, my lord…if you'll excuse us."

"Join me for some refreshment Lenaar?" Malon offered his arm.

"Of course. But there is something I need to do first. I'll join you in a moment, Malon. Have the droid set up tea in the study."

Lenaar scurried away and Malon shut the door behind him, leaving only the Matron, Liaseph, and the medical droid in the room.

"Lay back," the Matron instructed. "Three-One-Bee, take a blood sample and began the scan."

Liaseph stared up at the ceiling, her lip's tightening as the matron stripped her and set about the examination.

"Uncross your arms," the Matron barked. "We must be certain your body is suited to providing heirs."

"Your hands are cold," Liaseph hissed. "This is archaic…do we really _have_ to do this? Can't we just say we did and move on?"

The Matron's hands moved lower and Liaseph recoiled.

"You're bruised. Do you have something to hide?"

"No, I've nothing to hide. I'm just… _shy_ of being touched by strangers. Especially there."

"Consider it preparation for your marriage night. The examination might even make it easier for you…but we must take care, Lord Baliss will want to save the mark of your maidenhead. It's a point of pride for him—to have a perfect wife."

"That seems a bit unfair…he's not perfect."

"Silence. That is not for you to concern yourself with."

"You're hurting." Liaseph cringed and flushed a deep crimson at the violation the Matron inflicted. The woman scowled and her brows furrowed.

"Matron, the scans, and bloodwork are complete. Here are the results for your inspection," the droid announced.

The Matron snatched the datapad from the droid and glared at the result. Her jaw set and her eyes grew even harder as she scrolled through the results.

Liaseph swallowed and drew her knees and the sheet up higher as she held herself. She peered around the Matron as if calculating the distance to the doorway. Cautiously, she snatched one of the surgical blades from the medical tray and hid it under the sheet.

"Nothing to hide? Shy of being touched by strangers?" The Matron growled and threw the datapad aside. "Did you think you would fool me? That you would get away with this fraud?"

The Matron slapped Liaseph hard enough to leave a livid pink handprint on her cheek. "Little ! For shame."

"I haven't done anything wrong. The Thuls allowed me to ride their thrantas…it must've been that—"

"And I suppose next you'll tell me the thranta impregnated you too…" The Matron narrowed her eyes. "This isn't even a shock to you…you _knew_."

I drew a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Pause replay."

((to be continued…))


	20. Chapter 20

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Nineteen~**

 _I didn't know your value until I lost you._

The matron's revelation blindsided me. I stood mutely before the monitor waiting for the truth to germinate and take root but it wouldn't. It was a stubborn husk that wouldn't crack, seemingly content to languish untouched in the darkness.

Perhaps this was because I didn't _want_ to nurture it. I didn't want it to grow and evolve. For the first time in my life, I felt genuine panic bloom in my chest.

I thought she understood what my life was and what it meant to share in it. No matter how many times I reminded her of the sacrifices she would be expected to make, she clung fiercely to the idea of our life together. She believed we could exist in a bubble, our world, separate from reality.

I wanted her in my world, but I alone understood the cost. She did not and now there was a child to consider.

A child…

I pressed the heel of my hand against my forehead and swore.

Fathering a child was not something I'd allowed myself to dwell upon. How could I be a guiding influence when I was away at war?

I was a soldier. My life belonged to the Empire and the Empire was absolute. In the end, I would lay down my life for her and she would not grieve. Another would step into my place and the cycle would continue until it didn't.

I'd seen the families of men like me—their resentful wives who had forged empty relationships with money or callow men or with other wives who were nothing more than a mirror held up to their own reality. Their children didn't look upon their fathers as men to be respected and emulated, but as rivals—hated as much or more than any other Sith.

I didn't want this. In a world where loyalty is the scarcest gem, I would hope to at least inspire it amongst my own. What use is an absent father?

Liaseph's image stared at me through the monitor with round watery eyes, pleading for an escape. Fear had become as intimate as breathing for her. It ruled her. It could be a useful tool if taught how to use it, but she had no such knowledge.

Her fear of losing me wasn't born of a selfish disquiet, but out of concern for the child. This was the calculation I'd sensed in her that night in the garden—the search for the perfect words, uttered at the perfect moment—the truth artfully hidden until the conditions were right to speak it. I had not allowed her those conditions. I'd been too consumed with my own concerns to entertain hers.

She feared to tell me and rightly so. I wasn't prepared and she would have misinterpreted my anger and contrition as being her fault. It wasn't.

None of this mattered. She was mine, and she carried my child. I had to find her and then I would be a husband and father.

"Resume playback."

Liaseph's lip edged up smugly. "Of course I knew. I did it on purpose."

The matron hurled Liaseph's underclothing at her. "Get dressed."

While the matron's back was turned, Liaseph secreted the surgical blade in the pleats of her dress.

"Three-One-Bee…inform Lord Bayliss of this development at once."

"As you decree, Matron." The droid bowed and sauntered out.

Liaseph remained rooted by the examination table, one hand clamped on the edge of it. Her jaw was set and her gaze tracked the matron's movements across the infirmary.

"Why are you standing there like a dolt? Get moving!" The matron barked.

"No."

"You dare defy me?" The matron advanced on her, arm raised and threatening a backhand.

Liaseph's eyes narrowed. "How _dare_ you presume to command mein my own home? You're nothing here. _Nothing_."

"I'll see to it you never marry into _any_ noble house."

"Good! I'd rather die first."

"Insolent little ingrate. You're not fit to lick filth off Malon's boots." The matron's habit shook with fury and her mouth clenched.

"You're vile and I hate you all!" Liaseph lunged at the matron and jabbed the blade into her shoulder.

The woman gasped. Blood streaked across her chest like a comet. Her eyes widened and she stared down at the wound. "You little demon! You stabbed me!" She squawked incredulously.

"I'll show you a demon!" Liaseph drove the blade at the growing stain.

"That's enough!" The matron snarled and caught her wrist, twisting it hard enough to crank her arm behind her back.

"Let go of me!"

The matron pried the blade from under her fingers. "Maybe now you'll do as you're told. I _said_ move!"

Liaseph stomped her captor's foot and broke free.

The matron wailed. Her veil hung over her eyes and she ripped the offending material away.

Liaseph hurled jars of ointments and tinctures at the older woman and scampered backward to put distance between them.

"You'll pay for this," the matron warned, backing Liaseph into a corner.

"I pay for it every minute I'm stuck here with you." Liaseph padded down the trolley beside her, fingers blindly grasping for something she could use. Her gaze remained locked on her adversary.

Matron Alona advanced, blade in hand. Liaseph dodged the blow, earning herself enough time to seize a metal instrument tray to shield herself.

"That won't be enough to save you." The matron lunged and drove the blade through the tray. Liaseph gasped. The tip of the blade stopped just short of the space between her eyes.

"You missed," Liaseph goaded. She tugged the tray, twisting it this way and that, until she wrenched it away. The blade snapped and the matron stumbled backward, still clutching the sweaty useless handle.

She discarded the broken knife and launched herself at Liaseph. The two women traded blows, slapping and pummeling each other as they tumbled through the infirmary. Trays and trolleys flipped, steel implements clattering around them. The kolto tank shuddered on its base, the liquid inside sloshing over the rim. A shelving unit tipped, raining metal and supply canisters.

The matron clamped her hands around Liaseph's neck and squeezed, her teeth gritted with the effort.

Liaseph dug her nails into the woman's cheek, leaving behind four angry welts and the tip of one of her fingernails.

Matron Alona wailed. She clutched her face and then studied the blood staining her palm. "Savage!" She pushed herself to her knees and grabbed the edge of the exam table to stand.

Liaseph panted, her eyes wild as she fought to recover before her opponent did. She scrambled to her feet and snatched one of the few unbroken bottles of antiseptic from the overturned shelf. She uncorked it and shook it before pressing her thumb over the opening.

"I'm leaving," Liaseph muttered, giving the matron a wide berth as she passed.

The matron grabbed her hair and cranked hard. "I swear I'll tear it all out by the roots." The harder she struggled the more the matron tore at her scalp.

Liaseph cried out, tears welling in her eyes. She turned her head away as far as she could and sloshed the liquid back at the matron—a risk, given the angle. The liquid shot from the bottle, dousing the matron.

She shrieked and staggered backward, her habit askew. "My eyes! My face! It burns!"

Liaseph ran from the infirmary and didn't look back.

"Track Liaseph's movements—hallway—camera five," I barked. The monitor blurred and refocused as she fled down the hall. She froze halfway and yelped.

Duke Teraan blocked the passage. "You little fool! What have you done! You've ruined us all!" Lenaar peered out from behind their father and stepped forward to reveal herself fully.

Liaseph's hands balled into fists at her sides. "You told on me, didn't you? You swore you'd _help_ me!"

"I'm sorry Li. I couldn't let you do it. The Sith are pure evil—I couldn't let you run off with one. You belong here, with us. I'm sorry."

"How could you? I trusted you!"

Lenaar pawed at her tears. "I didn't want you to die. Sith kill people like us."

Teraan tugged at his waistcoat. "At least Lenaar, here, has some sense."

Liaseph's shoulders drooped and her lower lip quivered. "I can't believe you'd do this to me, Lennie…I _trusted_ you."

"Why didn't you tell me about the baby?"

"Why? So you could tell father about that too?" Liaseph crossed her arms. "Why would you betray me?"

"Don't accuse your sister of betrayal after what you did! Pregnant and by a Sith no less. Disgusting. I thought I raised you better than that."

"I told you, I'd rather _die_ than marry Malon."

"You're in for a fate _far_ worse than death," Teraan grunted. "You shamed me, and you will regret this for the rest of your life."

"I doubt that," Liaseph hissed.

"I tried to calm Malon after he found out…but Li…he wouldn't listen. He broke my tea service and left," Lenaar stammered.

"What do I care about your damn tea pot? This is my _life_ we're talking about."

"Stop it, you're being selfish."

"Shut up, Lennie."

Teraan stalked toward Liaseph. "It's time I dealt with you."

"No. I'm leaving you _both_ …and there isn't anything you can do about it!" Liaseph turned on her heel to leave and gasped.

Matron Alona blocked her escape and jabbed a syringe filled with orange liquid into her neck.

Liaseph dropped as if she'd been suddenly and violently deboned.

"Li!" Lenaar threw herself on the floor next to Liaseph.

"She'll live," The matron bit out. "It's only a tranquilizer."

"Thank you, Matron. This was all getting quite out of hand," Teraan said.

"The girl is a _demon_ …look at my face! And look at my shoulder. She stabbed me!"

"I will do what I can to make amends with you and Lord Baliss both. For the time being, have the droid tend you, we'll discuss this later, you're dismissed."

The matron bowed grudgingly and left.

"What will happen to Li and the baby, father?"

"She wants to leave us so badly…I'll arrange it. Go to your room Lenaar. It's been a taxing day for all of us."

"Yes, father…"

After the girl disappeared up the stairs, Teraan stared down at the unconscious body of his youngest and shook his head. "What a waste."

He stepped over her and continued into another room.

"Track Teraan," I barked at the com.

The next location leapt onto the screen. Judging by the walls of books and the elaborately carved desk and padded chair behind it, this room served as the duke's study.

He paused long enough to pour himself a drink and downed it three gulps. He poured another with shaky hands and sipped at it before sitting at his desk.

The Duke clasped his forehead and allowed his hand to slide down the length of his face. He sighed and considered the holo images on his desk, one of each girl and the late wife, I presumed. He tapped the side of Liaseph's image and the likeness sank into the device.

He pivoted his chair to access the holocom behind him and after a few moments, presumably to search a frequency, he made the call.

"This is Duke Cedon Teraan. I need to speak with Borga Nil. I have a problem that requires his _expertise_."

A peculiar species of alien sprouted out of the holocom. Cat-like, but not Cathar, the alien was defined by large triangular ears and exaggerated tufted sideburns extending from the base of the ears to the lower jaw. He blinked down at Teraan with narrowed calculating eyes.

"Duke Teraan, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I have…I have…something…"

The alien leaned forward and stared into the duke's face and blinked, his almost lipless mouth coiling upwards. "Don't hold back Duke, what it is you have for me _this_ time?"

"A girl…barely twenty."

"And is anyone going to be looking for this one? The last one had pesky attachments and it cost me. This had better be worth it."

"She is…let me show you. Transmitting image," Teraan tapped at his console.

"Why?" The alien snapped.

"She betrayed us…and her betrothed…and there is also the matter of a small problem now."

"How small?"

"No more than three weeks, I'm told."

"You do realize if I send my men for her, the deal is complete. There are no returns, no refunds, and no exchanges. You will _not_ be able to change your mind."

"I realize."

"How much?"

"Twelve million."

The alien laughed. "She is a pretty little thing, but no…twelve million is too rich, given her little problem. It will need to be dealt with before she can be sold to the proper market. She's damaged. Six million."

"Ten…"

"Too much. Call again when you're ready to deal."

"No! Wait. Nine million. Nine. Do nine."

The alien picked at his tufty sideburns. "There is something about her eyes that I like…an innocence I want to see driven out. And there are some new augmentations I would like to try—genetic enhancements that will fetch me a better price for my investment. The auctions are so competitive these days, I need an advantage. I suppose I could go eight million, but not a credit more."

"Eight million…" Teraan mumbled. "All right. We are in agreement. Do you have men here? Or will there be a wait?"

"Not today. I don't want to risk you changing your mind. My men will be there within the hour to complete the deal.

"Thank you, Borga."

"No…thank _you,_ " the alien oozed.

The image fizzled and Teraan poured himself another drink. I watched him brood over the tumbler, and paused the recording.

"Identify Borga Nil."

"Borga Nil is a Zygerrian slave dealer and master of the Zygerrian underworld," the com replied.

"Show me every log and instance pertaining to Borga Nil. I want _everything_."

The com whirred and processed, finally ceasing the search five minutes later. "None found."

I bashed my fist against the console and swore. "Fast forward, track Liaseph—hallway, camera five, resume."

The Teraan protocol droid ushered in five mercenaries, four men, and a woman—all human. "This way, my lady, gentlemen, if you will," the droid chattered.

The men guffawed at the droid's pretentiousness and shoved the silver droid aside. The woman kept her distance and trailed behind the men, weapon in hand. The caution in her posture suggested she wasn't a mere thug. She carried her armor like a Mandalorian—perhaps one of their bounty hunters.

She watched the men in silence as they gathered around Liaseph's body like vultures at a carcass. Something about the woman troubled me—like an itch I knew I had but one I couldn't find to scratch.

The men turned Liaseph over and exchanged looks.

"Not bad…not bad at all."

"The Boss said she's damaged…too early to tell, though."

"What do you think, Chief?"

"Yeah, whaddya say?"

The group parted to let the woman in closer. She kicked Liaseph's foot and snorted. "These Alderaanian girls…farking frail as hell—weak-willed little snots. They'll go through her in under a year. Not much good for anythin' if you ask me. The Boss got ripped off."

"Think he'd mind if we sampled the goods?"

"Who's gonna tell 'im? Do whatever you want just don't mark her up. For eight mill, I reckon, he wants to keep her pretty. Transfer the credits to the droid and take her out. I don't wanna stay here any longer than I got to. Farkin' nobility…makes my skin crawl."

The pack burst into laughter and hauled Liaseph out of camera range.

"End playback."

I squashed down my fury and searched the castle for a blank data spike. I found one in Teraan's study and jammed the spike into his personal com. "Download all files, all security vids, _now_."

The deactivated holo display containing Liaseph's image caught my eye and I plucked the device from his desk. I activated the display and watched her miniature form pose—regally at first as if she were leading a receiving line and then she would preen and giggle as if trying to incite a game of chase, before reverting back to the original pose.

I watched the sequence repeat twice more before deactivating the device and dropping it into one of the reticules attached to my belt. After the download completed, I retrieved the spike.

Certain that I had taken all I could use to aid in my search, I strode through the halls of House Teraan for the last time. All that I'd witnessed and all that I'd done played in my mind in an endless loop, much like the holo display I'd stolen.

I had tortured her family to death, but I could not regret it. They deserved worse.

She was far away, I sensed that much and when I thought on the torments those cretins would inflict on her, the darkness writhed in me, hungry, impatient and murderous.

Every moment of rage I'd suffered in my life thus far, was but a candle to the nova boiling my blood at this moment. Restraint was an ideal I subscribed to—I preferred the cold logic of rational thought, but not this night.

This night, I would unleash the darkness and glut its appalling appetite. I threw my arms up and bellowed into the gloom.

"Feed!"

((to be continued…))


	21. Chapter 21

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Twenty~**

 _We may fill our existence, but that does not mean we're living._

With my arms spread to the sky, I opened myself to the spoils of my vengeance. The darkness feasted on the damned and I wallowed in the concerto of their agony.

Lord Baliss and his harsh matron smoldered at my feet, their foul incense besmirching the cold night air. Their fat snapped into the dying embers and I closed my eyes to savor the sound.

Through them, I'd discovered new avenues of torment. Lightning was no longer restricted to the external body—I could summon it within the fine membranes encasing the nerves to begin a chain reaction that sped through every vein and artery until each branch glowed the same livid purple as the trees adorning Hutt plazas.

Baliss's servants fled, their fading screams carried on the wind. Ashes snowed around me, filling the craters where House Teraan and House Baliss once stood. The intoxication I'd felt at their destruction ebbed and I was left numb.

I held out my hand and a large gray flake alighted on my palm. It was beautiful and fragile but my touch hastened its deterioration. There was nothing in the world that could protect it, not even me. I closed my fingers over it. If I could not protect it, I would carry its stain on my hands as a reminder of my failure.

I strode across the plain toward the remains of House Teraan, dusty clouds lifting with every footfall. The world spun, and I absorbed the bleakness of the panorama I'd created.

The darkness returned to me, silent and satisfied. A strange sort of peace came over me—a terrifying peace that reminded me I'd lost more of who I was.

My heart kept a measured beat—monstrous in the artificial perfection of it. There was no elation or anger or grief—none of the measures that would quicken it remained. It merely… _was_.

Eager to escape this Alderaanian purgatory, I hastened my gait. The path ahead seemed endless as I strolled through the swirling brume. After transmitting my co-ordinates to my shuttle pilot, I sensed I was no longer alone. The growl of a lightsaber confirmed what I already knew and all that was gray was suddenly touched by blue, the colour deepening as Master Rylister emerged from the fog.

He assumed a defensive stance but kept his distance as he took his measure of me. "What have you _done_?"

"Something that should've been done long ago."

"They're dead…they're _all_ dead," Rylister murmured incredulously.

"Not all. Though I imagine Liaseph wishes she were."

"What do you mean? Where is she?"

"No doubt stripped bare in a darkened cargo hold of a mercenary vessel. Surely, I don't need to be any more explicit."

"You sold her…"

I snorted. "You Jedi are all alike. You would accuse me before allowing yourself to admit the truth. You knew what Teraan was capable of…and yet you did nothing."

Rylister retracted his blade. "I don't know what you're talking about, Sith."

I laughed ruefully. "Teraan was a slaver. Liaseph wasn't the first he'd sold—he'd been trafficking for years to maintain his nobility."

"If he was, he kept it well hidden from me. I didn't know. I tried to talk reason to the man—I suggested he find another more suitable—I wanted her to be happy."

"Hmph. Talk? Reason? You're a bigger fool than I'd thought. You Jedi play at benevolence but when action was called for, you did nothing. You knew she was suffering, why would you not remove her?"

"And take her where? You assume this is in my power to do."

"Anywhere! Your precious temple if need be. You allowed her to believe death was the only option left for her."

"I don't have the authority."

"Excuses," I snarled.

"Why would Duke Teraan do such a thing to his own child?"

"She dared to defy him."

"Because of _you_. You corrupted her. You took her away from here and filled her head with lies."

I folded my arms. "Yes. Because of me—and because of you."

The Jedi bowed his head, momentarily lost in the swirling ashes at his feet. "I returned as soon as I recovered from our encounter."

"It wasn't soon enough."

"There was nothing I could do. As it is, I'm defying the Order by coming here. Why tell me this?"

"Make no mistake I would rather cut you down where you stand. Your ineptitude ruined her—for that alone, I should kill you—but the Jedi are not without their uses. You have access to worlds I do not. She must be found. I am offering you the chance to atone."

The Jedi's attention fixed on me and a silver-blue glow escaped the edges of his visor as he turned his Force sight on me. "That you would suggest this to me means—you _love_ her…"

"A foreign concept to a Jedi, I know."

"Maybe not as foreign as you'd think," he began earnestly.

"Enlighten me."

He strolled past me, all caution thrown aside and propped his boot against the fallen battlement. With his back to me, he stared out at the hellish landscape. "I never told her—I thought I'd always be a part of her life, as a friend, as counsel—as a protector and teacher…it would have been enough."

"You Jedi and your archaic dogma. It is _never_ enough and you _never_ learn. You aren't the first, nor will you be the last of your order to chafe under such restriction."

"I can't argue it, but which of us doesn't have demands over them, they'd prefer to be free of?"

"Careful, _Jedi_ , lest you betray your lofty principles. I suspect, given time you would have betrayed your precious order. You may still."

"I am a Jedi. Your very presence corrupts."

"Only because in your heart of hearts you know I'm right."

"No," Rylister grunted. "You're not. You're Sith. Everything about you is… _wrong_. You're depraved."

"I've struck a nerve."

"Enough. I'm a Jedi! You claim to love her but stand here tempting me. Why? What is it you want from me exactly?"

"Your help. Liaseph must be found."

"If I find her…I _won't_ give her to you."

"You act as if you'd have a say in the matter. Surely you don't believe you could keep her from me?"

"You'll destroy her even if it's not your intention…"

"And she'd destroy _you_ if she wasn't mine."

"Enough of this, Sith." Rylister slashed the air with the edge of his hand. "What makes you think she could even forgive what you've done? You've destroyed her entire world—you murdered her sister! Burned her home!"

"Her forgiveness is irrelevant. All that matters is that she is found and rescued."

"You're not like any Sith I've met."

"Fail her and you will see how wrong you are, Jedi. Do I have your co-operation?"

"You have it—but I don't even know your name, Sith."

"My name is Marr."

The shuttle _Penumbra,_ landed in the clearing behind me, wings folding as it extended the boarding ramp. A storm of ash and debris swirled around us, kicked up by the vessel's thrusters.

"You're Darth Marr…of the Dark Council," he shouted over the roar.

"I will transmit the data relevant to the search and my personal com frequency before I leave orbit."

"Understood," Rylister grunted.

I started up the boarding ramp and sensed the Jedi's Force gaze following me. I paused half-way and turned to face him. "Oh and one more thing Jedi—there is no passion…only serenity."

Rylister's hand balled into a fist and I sensed his anger rise before it was quickly subdued. I boarded the shuttle, knowing his anger would fuel his search and eventually his downfall.

* * *

The _Penumbra_ coasted into the shuttle bay aboard the _Erinyes_. A makeshift group of officers and troopers lined the bay and stood at attention. I ignored them and continued on to the bridge.

Alderaan spun below us and I glared at the blue-green world with contempt. "Send the following transmission to this frequency."

"Transmission sent," the communications officer announced. "Transmission received and acknowledged, my lord."

"Admiral Vilks, take us out of orbit. Set a course for Zygerria."

"My lord? Slavers?" The admiral turned away from his console.

"Do it. Question me again, and I'll have your tongue."

"Apologies, my Lord. Course set for Zygerria. My lord, permission to speak?"

"Granted."

"An encoded message arrived for you prior to your arrival from Darth Vowrawn—for your eyes only."

"Put it through to my chambers."

"Yes, My lord."

The _Erinyes_ pulled out of orbit and I sensed the growing distance from the world below. I stood over the holocom. "Marr here. Go ahead."

"Good to see you old friend. Unfortunately, I cannot tarry, but I would advise you to return to Dromund Kaas at once. There is treachery afoot and the Council requires your presence. The…climate here is quite, _hostile_ , I might add."

"What's this about?"

Vowrawn's image glanced about slyly. "It's Ravage," he whispered. "He's learned of his apprentice's death and your part in it. He's called an emergency session. He's suggesting you compromised the Empire and nearly cost us our alliance with the Thuls…he's suggesting you've committed treason."

"Ravage is a fool. I have no time to waste with this."

"Make time, my friend. He's made serious allegations and regrettably they haven't completely fallen on deaf ears. There are those who would hear what he has to say. Whatever you're planning needs to wait. I can stall the proceedings, but not indefinitely."

"Then do so, Marr out."

((to be continued…))


	22. Chapter 22

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Twenty-One~**

 _Omniscience is both a gift and a curse._

The _Erinyes_ cut through hyperspace like an arrow, but not even the change in the stars was enough to distance me from Vowrawn's warning.

Ravage was combative at the best of times. He was petty and manipulative and knew how to hold a grudge, but he was also well-spoken and had a gift for political improvisation—traits that served him well as Head of the Sphere of Expansion and Diplomacy.

Like Vowrawn, Ravage had considerable wealth at his disposal, but rather than accumulating it through gaming and questionable interests, Ravage had inherited his fortune and grown it through carefully cultivated political connections. Despite his outward displays of petulance, he was possessed of a ruthless and diabolical cunning that for all my talent as a strategist worried me. He had patience in building his reprisals, and when they manifested, they were swift and unexpected.

In short, Ravage was a dangerous enemy and by killing his apprentice, I'd earned his focus. If I had returned to Dromund Kaas my presence would have given weight to his accusations. Dismissing them meant they weren't worthy of my concern or the council's. Ignoring Ravage was not a decision I made lightly, but it was the right one.

Hours passed and I grew restless. I stood before the pyre in my chambers. In the ancient Sith tradition, I looked to the flames for insight. I was a young man when I first noticed the fire's revelations and since that time, it had served as a conduit for knowledge that defied more conventional means.

The answers that came were not always easily or accurately interpreted, but no medium through which the Force manifested ever dealt in absolutes.

When I lived, the flames would often reveal future possibilities—but it was the divinity within the fire that decided the form the vision would take.

I became one with the moment and gave myself to the darkness until there was nothing but emptiness and longing. Every sense became a blank canvas and a vision began to form—but it was not the vision from my past that I expected to see—it was a wholly new vision and it was accompanied by the faint commanding voice I'd heard the last time I'd encountered the void.

 _You will have the answers you seek. Perhaps then you will surrender to the will of the Force and the true work can begin._

The voice was familiar and lingered on the borders of my awareness, but before I could assign an identity to it, it was gone.

The flames twisted and writhed as the revelation began to build.

A frozen world teeming with mining colonies and men toiling to free the resources trapped beneath the ice appeared within the flames.

The vision dropped below the surface to an underground base filled with beautiful, rare and unusual beings, including seldom seen Lethan Twi'leks with their blood red flesh and other species, I did not recognize. Linked together by heavy chains and shock collars, the slaves filed into their transports under the careful eye of the Zygerrian slave masters.

A pair of Arkanians clad in medical robes maneuvered a hover stretcher through the base and into an operating room well away from the shipping area. Arkanians were some of the most gifted geneticists in the galaxy and were known to work with Zygerrian slavers.

The woman fought against the stretcher's restraining cuffs and sobbed. Dark brown braids escaped her surgical cap and I was at once riveted to her.

The men transferred her to the operating table. She flinched as if she'd been burned when they touched her. The blinding lights over the surgical table distorted the vision and I cursed. I moved closer to the fire and the image cleared. The blood drained from my face when my suspicions were confirmed.

 _Liaseph._

She strained against the bindings pinning her to the table and her wrists were raw from her struggle. Her eyes were wild and rimmed red and she turned her face away from the lights above her. A holo display of an altered chromosome rotated over the nearby com unit, and her pale bruised flesh took on an icy cast.

"Careful with this one, she's already been bought and paid for."

"Yeah, I heard she sold for fifty-five million. The master turned quite a profit. Heard he bought her for eight."

The other man whistled low. "Nice. So who bought her?"

"No idea. But whoever it was, didn't want, and I quote, 'any filthy aliens.'"

"Did Borga order rehymenization?"

The taller of the two Arkanians flicked through a data pad. "Yeah. But first, we need to eliminate any signs of previous wear. Says here, she's about three weeks along."

"My baby—please don't…please don't kill him," she whimpered.

"Orders are orders. Don't resist. It'll be easier that way. Breathe deep and it will all be over before you know it."

Liaseph sobbed. "No please…don't take him."

"Look, you're a pleasure slave, not a breeder." The Arkanian cupped her cheek and kissed her hard. She recoiled and wriggled against her bonds.

"Not bad, but after we're finished, she'll be irresistible—a living, breathing narcotic. I almost feel sorry for the sack of credits that bought her. He won't be able to part with her."

"Hope whoever it is likes 'em feisty."

"Release me and you'll see how _feisty_ I can be," she spat.

The Arkanians laughed and Liaseph's anger morphed into something different—a plaintive look of resignation. It was a look I'd never seen before and suspected it was one she'd developed recently.

"Please—help me. Let me keep my child—and I'll…I'll let you…I'll let you do whatever you want. I'll _do_ whatever you want."

"Gotta say, she's catching on quick."

The surgeon shook his head. "Tempting as that is, I like living. The master keeps a close eye on his investments. He pays us to _improve_ not test the merchandise." He shifted out of the way to reveal a security camera.

"Don't take him… _please,_ I'm begging you."

"Just breathe…breathe nice and deep"

"No." She drew a deep breath and held it.

"You can't fight us and we've wasted enough time already." The surgeon turned to his assistant, "Increase concentration, increments of five percent."

"Murderers," she hissed. Her eyes grew heavy and her resolve collapsed with her first unconscious breath.

"Anesthesia complete. Begin uterine evacuation and configure genetic resequencing."

"Done. Running kolto IV now."

"Begin cellular analysis and grow the new tissue for implantation and prepare the subdermal contraceptive device."

The procedure took less than twenty minutes to complete. My saber hand opened and closed. Eager and spoiling for a fight, I turned away from the pyre.

The temperature in my chambers had plummeted to below freezing, despite the raging fire. My breath ghosted around me. My pulse throbbed inside my head and the darkness began to hiss its vile song. Insatiable, it demanded my vengeance and I was inclined to exact it.

The intercom chimed and Admiral Vilks appeared over the unit.

"What?" I snapped.

As if sensing the cold on the bridge, the admiral shivered. "P-pardon the intrusion my lord, but we've arrived. Shall we assume orbit above Zygerria?"

"No. Keep us out of sensor range. Ready the Rendaran-class assault shuttle for departure."

"The Republic vessel we captured last month, my lord?"

"Is there any another? What did I say about questioning me?"

Admiral Vilks cleared his throat. "Apologies my lord. No offense was intended. I was merely endeavoring to be thorough."

"Idiot. Prepare the shuttle for departure _now_."

"Yes, my lor—"

I cut Vilks off before he could finish groveling and started for the armory. I removed the distinguishing spiked pauldrons from my armor and all other regalia that marked me as Sith, save for my mask. I cast them aside in favor of a set of coarsely woven brown robes.

After stowing my own lightsaber into my wrist holster, I considered the weapons in the case before me. Twenty-seven lightsabers, all claimed as trophies from those I'd defeated. I settled for a plain silver hilt and ignited the weapon. The blue blade was as foreign as the robe I wore but would serve my purposes. I drew up my hood and left for the shuttle bay.

The crew prepped the Republic shuttle and finished fueling the vessel as I boarded it.

"You are cleared for take-off, my lord," Vilks announced over the shuttle's com.

Confiscating Rylister's shuttle after his defeat on Alderaan was perhaps one of Admiral Vilks's finer moments and the only reason he still lived.

Two hours later, I set the shuttle down in an unpopulated area on the largest plateau. Lush green mesas dominated the Zygerrian landscape and served to elevate the masters above their slaves. Each mesa was capped by a ziggurat, which stood at the heart of a walled city.

The city was like many others I'd visited over the years—dusty, crowded and noisy. The merchants and locals spoke basic with severe accents, ranging from the boisterous to the ominous.

The markets sold a variety of goods, including slaves, but these were common slaves, beasts of burden and men and women meant for mundane tasks. The exotic and beautiful beings I'd seen in the fire, existed elsewhere, lest they somehow contract the dull dead-eyed look of every commodity here.

As I neared the palatial ziggurat, the streets became less populated and cleaner. I stood before the stairs leading to the apex. Each level of the ziggurat was decorated with manicured trees coaxed into a variety of shapes.

At the top of the stairs, the guards crossed their spears to block my path. "State your purpose here."

I passed my hand between them, as the Jedi do and exerted my influence over them. "The Jedi have business with Borga Nil. You will let me pass."

"You have business with Borga Nil. We will let you pass, Master Jedi." The men uncrossed their spears and took a step back to allow me passage.

I clasped my wrists within the flowing sleeves and acted every bit the Jedi sage as I continued into the ziggurat. The darkness rejoiced.

((to be continued…))


	23. Chapter 23

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Twenty-Two~**

 _We are all pawns on the great board._

Inside the apex of the ziggurat, the sun blazed through a four-story high window behind the Zygerrian throne. Mirrored panels angled outside the window would reflect the sun no matter its position in the sky. The effect was dazzling but I suspected the true purpose was to impair visitors—the mirrored window forced anyone approaching the throne to bow their head with a false reverence and it kept anyone from focussing too intently on the silhouetted leader. He would have the advantage of seeing his visitors clearly, allowing him to quickly appraise their intentions.

The throne sat on the uppermost of three platforms, seven steps separating each level. The view behind the throne reached for miles, and the low hanging clouds drifting past the green mesas made for an almost pastoral view—all of which was entirely lost owing to the fixed throne. I would have preferred the option to face the window and survey the world before me, instead of keeping my back to it.

The silence exaggerated every sound, including the measured weight of my footfalls. I suspected the Zygerrians preferred silence, their large pointed ears suggested a sensitivity to sound.

The guards made no move to challenge me as I continued forward. I sensed the slave master's curiosity and the wariness of his guards. Force users were an oddity on this world and with their wariness came the cunning that asked what it would mean to own a Force using slave or if it was even possible. Would it be possible to subdue me…to own me?

The silhouette seated on the throne leaned forward, a shadow touched by gold. His forearms rested on his parted knees, hands languishing between them. His casual posture was at odds with the opulence of his jewel-encrusted throne and spoke volumes of who this man was—a man of wealth and ambition, but vulgar, unrefined and corrupt.

His eyes were narrowed into suspicious slits and his tufted sideburns bridged the large triangular ears to his jaw. Even in silhouette, I recognized the slaver from Teraan's holocom.

A thickly muscled Zygerrian bodyguard cradling a blaster rifle against his arm stepped forward to address me. "That's far enough Jedi. What's your business here?"

"I seek an audience with the esteemed slave master Borga Nil—not his lackey."

The bodyguard's posture and grip on his weapon clenched, but before he could respond to the slight, the silhouette on the throne waved the bruiser aside.

"Come, speak your business, Jedi," Borga grunted in heavily drawn out syllables and his wriggling fingers beckoned me closer.

"I've come to discuss terms for the safe return of a young woman your men misappropriated."

"Master Jedi," Borga drawled and spread his arms, "You will have to be more specific. I own many females. I sell as many as you want."

"Only one is of interest—a recent acquisition of yours. Lady Liaseph of House Teraan on Alderaan, Lady of the Alsakan Riverlands."

Borga Nil picked at the tuft running his right cheek. He reclined into his throne and leaned heavily on the left armrest. "I don't recall any _lady_ —if it is a lady you want, you have come to the wrong place, Jedi. But what would a Jedi do with a female anyway? I hear you are all—what is the word? Eunuchs?"

The bodyguard and the soldiers laughed.

My saber hand opened and closed. "Then let me refresh your memory. She is the daughter of your associate Duke Cedon Teraan. You purchased her from him for eight million credits and sold her again for fifty-five million."

Borga's eyes grew round and I thought he might leap out of his throne. He slapped the armrest hard. "How do you know this? Jedi send spies?!"

"How does anyone know things? You have traitors in your midst." I glanced over at the bodyguard and tossed my head in a knowing gesture.

He sprang to his feet and gestured toward the doorway. "Get out! All of you get out!" He roared, spittle flying from his mouth.

"But he's a Jedi," the bodyguard protested.

"I can handle a Jedi. Now get out!" Borga gestured toward the doorway.

The men filed out and heavy double doors groaned shut.

Borga loosened his collar and stalked toward me unafraid. "Now we talk."

"Now we talk," I echoed the slaver's timbre.

"Name your price, Jedi."

"In exchange for the girl's safe return, I will give you the names of the traitors in your organization."

"Traitors? How many?"

"As a show of good faith between us…there are fourteen in all," I lied.

"Give me the names."

"Bring me the girl or no bargain."

"I can't. She's off world. I don't deal with her kind here."

"Where is she? Tell me."

"No. This is not part of the bargain. This is only for me to know." He pounded his fist against his chest. "Only for me."

"Then bring her _here_. Call your men, deliver her to me. I'll wait."

"Give me the names. And money. Hundred million."

"I'll give you five names, make the call. You'll have your money when I have the girl."

"You bargain like no Jedi I've ever seen. No Jedi has money. Give me the names." Borga withdrew his holocom and keyed in the frequency and waited.

"The girl has wealthy connections. The mercenary crew you sent to House Teraan to collect the girl…four men, led by a woman—a Mandalorian—they…how did they put it…sampled the goods against your orders."

"You lie Jedi. They are my best. They wouldn't dare defy me."

"Then you are a fool, Borga. Jedi don't lie."

"Prove it."

I reached into my robes and withdrew a copy of the security vid I'd downloaded at House Teraan and thrust the spike at him. "See for yourself."

The slaver snatched the spike and jammed it into his com. The tufts edging his face stood on end and his pointed ears folded back as he watched the exchange between his mercenaries. His breath came in ragged shallow snorts like a bull nerf with a red flag in its face.

Borga glared at me and set aside his still chiming com unit. His ears flattened at the repetitive and annoying chime. He jabbed the intercom button on the computer. "Get me the Blood gang. _Now_!"

The holocom continued to chime in the background. "Idiots. Why don't they respond?"

"Crossing me, wouldn't be prudent," I warned.

Minutes later, the double doors crashed open and the mercenary gang staggered into the throne room. Two of the men still had their ale bottles in hand. The woman, just as she had on Alderaan remained behind the men, but acted as their voice. "Master…we were just celebrating."

"Did I not warn you, Arcana?" Borga pulled his blaster rifle and sprayed the men without warning until his clip expired. The men's bodies stuttered with a harsh staccato as the rounds mowed through them. They dropped to the floor in bloody heaps and their leader, Arcana Blood, took cover behind a column and returned fire.

"The hell? You lost your mind, Borga?" She growled between volleys.

Borga cast the spent weapon aside. "Did you think I wouldn't find out? You stole from me! I warned you. I _warned_ you!"

"Dunno what the hell you're talking about," the woman muttered, her weapon pulled up tight.

"No one—steals from me. Idiot! They could've turned the girl's insides to ground meat. How do I fix that, uh? If they can't pass as virgins, they're worthless to me. Worthless! _Anyone_ can sell a whore. I have a reputation for the best. Only the best," he growled, thumping his chest.

I summoned the Jedi lightsaber to hand but didn't ignite it. I kept my gaze fixed on the woman when something occurred to me—she was a human female, possibly a bounty hunter—uncommon in a world dominated by aliens and then I realized why her appearance on Alderaan troubled me.

I held up my hand to stay the aggression between them. "I have one question for this woman."

"Speak. Then I kill her," Borga snarled.

"You were a bounty hunter—on Krayiss Two, over twenty years ago…you were contracted to murder a pair of slaves…Ailan and Lish Marr."

"What's it to you? Jedi filth." She snorted a thick ball of phlegm from her throat and spat. Then she opened fire on me. The blue blade came alive in my grip and sent the incoming bolts ricocheting off the walls.

"Answer me!" I hissed and stalked toward her. I sensed her disquiet as she anxiously searched her memories.

"What if I did? What do two slaves matter anyway?"

"They matter…because they were my parents." My grip tightened around the borrowed saber.

"You're wrong. It was an Imperial camp, not Jedi. Reclamation service pukes."

"I _know_."

With a flick of my hand, I sent her weapon cartwheeling across the throne room to land with a clatter in the corner. At my whim, she rose into the air, eyes bulging as she gasped for air.

The holocom no longer chimed in the background. Instead, the whine of distant blaster fire cutting through interference echoed about the throne room. Someone shouted in the background. Borga knelt next to the device.

A feeling of dread came over me and I snapped the woman's neck. I had hoped to extend her suffering, but she was a distraction, not the goal. I gritted my teeth and swished the borrowed lightsaber as I turned to face Borga.

"What the hell is this?" Borga shouted at the holocom.

The flickering image of an Arkanian crouching for cover crackled over the device. "We're being raided by the Jedi! Base is crawling with Pubs. They've seized the merchandise. And there's a Jedi here demanding we give up one of the slaves—the Alderaanian."

 _Rylister_.

My lip curled under my mask and I speculated how he'd known where to begin his search.

"Salvage what you can and sound the evacuation order!" Borga shouted.

"The girl! I want the girl!" I snarled and levied the lightsaber at the slaver's throat.

"The Alderaanian…were is she?" Borga barked.

"She shipped already, just like you wanted."

"Who's the buyer?" I snapped. "The name. _Now_!"

"You are _not_ Jedi! You are Sith, a wily Sith—the worst kind." Borga jabbed a vibroblade through my boot. The attack surprised me and I recoiled. Pain radiated through my foot and I felt the squish of blood under my sole. The bones fanning across my foot burned from being forced apart by the blade. I gritted my teeth.

The slaver rolled and scampered up the steps to his throne. He bashed the armrest and withdrew a concealed blaster pistol from the secret compartment. "I knew Teraan would end up costing me."

I pulled the blade from my foot. I had to give the slaver credit, he knew just where to land the blow to bypass the plate lining. I fixed him in my gaze and cast the knife away. I fed off the pain and anger and the darkness clamored for more. I stalked toward the throne.

Borga opened fire and I batted away the incoming bolts like gnats.

"The name, slaver."

He rounded his throne to take cover and peeped around the backrest. Unable to get a clean shot he fired randomly.

I flung the Jedi saber at his forearm. The pistol tumbled down the steps and skittered across the floor, well beyond his reach. I grasped the air before me and tightened my fist around it.

The slaver dangled between the window and the back of his throne.

"The name of the buyer."

Borga sputtered and choked. His ears flicked back and his eyes bulged. "It's too late."

I shook him like a rag doll before the plate glass window. "The name."

The slave master opened his mouth as if he were about to speak and I ascended the first set of stairs leading up to the throne.

The window popped and the tinkling sound of falling shards was followed by the crack of Borga's skull as it exploded. Blood and brain mash spattered the throne and what remained of the window.

I released the slaver and he crumbled into a heap on the floor. His blood puddled beneath him and rapidly diffused into a black-red pool.

I raced to the window, careful to remain concealed as I peered out. My gaze skipped up to the rooftops of the nearby buildings and then to the lower levels of the ziggurat. I studied the mirrors angled about the exterior of the window.

Someone must have used the mirrors against Borga.

I tore out of the throne room, half-limping, half running. Pain lanced up the back of my calf and my foot tingled and threatened to grow numb.

Borga's men poured into the throne room, their shouts following me as I made my escape.

"The Jedi killed Borga! After him!"

Guards poured from the top level of the ziggurat and more gathered at the base and I was caught between them. I searched for an escape. The neighboring rooftop caught my attention and I charged across the chasm between the stairway and the building. My foot cramped and I fell short.

The air sliced around me as I fell. I bounced off a series of awnings to land in the fringes of the slave market. Mortified slaves babbled and threw their hands up. I broke through their enclosure and into the street. The slaves took the chance to freedom and followed.

I ducked into a doorway and stripped away the Jedi garb covering my armor. I wadded the cloak and tunic into a ball and stuffed it into a rain barrel. I peered out and when the way was clear, I ran into an alley to consider my next move. Casually I swiped a blue hooded tunic from a clothesline and shrugged it on over my armor. I had to find a way to the outskirts where I'd hidden the shuttle.

I scoured the alley for a way to avoid the main streets and the market. Tucked into an alcove a speeder caught my eye and I limped toward it. I tore open the control panel and tugged out the wires running to the starter. I sensed a presence behind me.

"Going somewhere? Hands behind your head. Turn around slowly. Try anything and it will be your last effort," the man clipped in an Imperial accent.

"You're an Imperial…" I murmured and turned around slowly as he'd requested.

The man was young—in his early twenties and his eyes bored through me like shards of ice. He kept his sniper rifle trained on me. I glanced down at the laser sight mark over my heart.

"So are you. Lower your hood, do it slowly…do it now."

I obeyed and watched the man as a glimmer of uncertainty cut his gaze for a fraction of a moment.

"Darth Marr. My lord, forgive me, I didn't recognize you."

"You…you're with Imperial Intelligence. Identify yourself."

"Agent Garet Tarkin, my Lord." The agent bowed stiffly and straightened.

"I trust this is yours?" I gestured to the speeder.

"Yes, my lord."

"Can you get me to my shuttle on the outskirts?"

"Of c-course my lord," the young agent stammered. "It would be an honour."

"I believe you and I have a few matters to discuss."

"Yes my lord."

((to be continued…))


	24. Chapter 24

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Twenty-Three~**

 _Our past is the foundation upon which we build._

The speeder broke down less than a kilometer away from the shuttle. The agent cursed and then apologized. I waved his words away and trudged toward the speeder with leaden feet.

My vision clouded and the mesas appeared on the verge of splitting apart like cells in the midst of mitosis. The shuttle and its ghostly twin lay ahead, quivering on their landing gear. I stopped and shook my head, in hopes of clearing away the stupor taking over.

Agent Tarkin slowed and studied me with an anxious gaze. "My lord? Are you unwell? Might I assist you to the shuttle?"

My tongue had thickened and I couldn't form the words I wanted to say. I reached out to steady myself and stumbled forward. The agent caught my arm and held me up. "Walk with me, my lord. The shuttle isn't far. It appears you've been poisoned."

I nodded and we pressed on toward the shuttle. I kept my focus on the monumental task of putting one foot before the other.

The usually stable boarding ramp had turned flexible and wobbled under every step. My armour burned where it touched my flesh and sweat inched down my body like a mass of worms.

"Almost there, my lord." The agent gritted his teeth and carried the brunt of my bulk against his shoulder.

He positioned me in the rear of the shuttle and leapt into the cockpit. "Emergency override, Imperial Intelligence clearance, Orenth, Resh, Aurek, Cresh, Leth, Esk. Set a course for the _Erinyes_ and hail the commanding officer at once. Inform him a medical team is required for Darth Marr. Engage autopilot."

The shuttle shuddered as the thrusters kicked in and the last thing I remembered seeing was the agent rummaging through the shuttle's medkit.

* * *

 _From the darkness, a vision began to form, along with the knowledge that despite the new revelations I would become privy to, the past and future would never change. I was an insect trapped in amber—allowed to observe, but powerless to intervene. The vision was set; it was truth and would never change, no matter how much I wanted it to._

 _An unmarked shuttle dropped into an underground spaceport. The iris covering the portal closed and the vegetation-covered plates above it ground together to camouflage the entrance. An aerial view would reveal nothing but a jungle, and on the ground, the area teemed with savage beasts, contained and herded by invisible shielding._

 _Liaseph was the last of a dozen women to disembark from the slaver's shuttle. She wore a floor-length gown of wine velvet with matching elbow length gloves—clothing befitting an evening at the opera rather than a night in a smoke-filled cantina. Her hair was swept up in an elegant twist and held in place by a pearl encrusted comb._

 _The other slaves, dressed in scanty dancer's togs, gathered in small groups. They whispered amongst themselves and threw scornful glances at Liaseph when she got too close._

 _A luxury subterranean rail car screeched to a stop and the slave captain in charge of the new arrivals herded the women on board. "Move along."_

 _Liaseph remained rooted where she stood._

" _You too," the captain barked._

 _She shook her head and refused to move. The slave captain gripped her elbow and fought her toward the rail car, his blaster pistol jammed under her ribs._

" _Damn, you smell kriffin' good," he muttered. "Like uncut spice with twice the kick."_

 _He pulled her to him and buried his face against her throat. His eyes closed as he breathed her in._

" _Get away from me, you filth," she hissed._

 _Her words passed over him as if he didn't even hear her. He tightened his grip. "Do you taste as good as you kriffin' smell?"_

" _Let me go," she bit out through clenched teeth._

" _You're a keeper…Don't care how much you cost... you're mine now."_

 _The slave captain lost himself so completely, he was oblivious to the armed droid behind him until its blaster barrel dug into his back._

 _The assassin droid jabbed the captain until he tore himself away._

" _What? Damn droid."_

" _Inquiry: Where is your respirator, Captain? You are in violation of safety code twenty-seven. Respirators are to be worn at all times when transferring genetically modified prototypes. Move away from the commodity."_

 _The slaver backed away and shook off the all-consuming trance that had possessed him with some effort. "Kark me..." He pulled a respirator mask hanging off a nearby peg and tugged it over his nose and mouth. "Move along, slave. Now."_

 _The assassin droid positioned himself between the captain and Liaseph. "Declaration: You heard him. Board the train or I will electrify your subdermal pain nodes."_

 _Liaseph soothed her elbow and boarded the subway car without a fight._

 _The droid opened fire on the careless slave captain and the man dropped. Liaseph's gaze narrowed and her lip crept up smugly. The train lurched and chugged steadily forward before she could sit._

 _She braced herself against the seats as she moved down the aisle, scanning for an empty seat. If she showed interest in a spot, those occupying it would spread out and shake their head. Some smirked, their eyes fixed with contempt while others looked away to avoid eye contact as if she were a beggar._

 _Liaseph continued to the next compartment and sat alone in the middle section by the window. No sooner had the glass doors between the cars shut, the women resumed their chatter and more annoyingly, their laughter. The more she strained to listen, the more it sounded like ridicule and it stung._

 _She stared out the window at the tunnel lights as they flicked past the windows. The glass was cool against her cheek, but her eyes burned. She swiped at them to ease the itchy heat under her lashes, but no tears would come._

 _The lights populating the tunnel grew fewer and farther between and plunged the compartment into occasional darkness. The combination of low light and the din creeping in from the other compartment jolted her. She stiffened and a rash of goose pimples ran up her arms._

 _She swatted at her arms as if fighting away unseen hands that pawed at her and screamed. The next car fell silent, but no one came to check on her._

 _She stared vacantly into the headrest of the seat ahead of her until she lost herself in the jagged patterns stamped into the leather._

 _The subterranean car slowed and ground to a stop. Once again, she was the last to emerge. She kept her distance from the others and while they were secured with golden chains and thinly disguised shock collars like a pack of dogs being taken for a mass walk, a prim shiny protocol droid clattered toward her and set a fur wrap over her shoulders._

" _Courtesy of my master, for your comfort, mistress. I am ME-D8, but you may call me Midi. If you will accompany upstairs?"_

" _What about them? Where are they going?" She wrinkled her nose as the pack was led away._

" _To the cantina, mistress, they are public assets. You are a private asset."_

" _What does that mean exactly?"_

" _It means that you belong to the club, but you are under exclusive lease to my master. You will service him and any of his contacts if he chooses for you to do so."_

" _Who's my master?"_

" _You will be introduced in short order if you'll come along now?"_

" _Where exactly am I?"_

" _I regret I am not permitted to disclose that information, mistress. Your location is irrelevant."_

 _Liaseph glanced about the underground station. Armed guards flanked every entrance and a force field trapped the train between barriers of green light._

 _She nodded and followed the droid onto the lift. Another force field activated around the platform as it rose upward._

" _I suppose that's in case someone decides they'd rather jump than serve."_

" _It's for your protection, mistress. My master insisted on every precaution. He would see his investment well protected."_

" _He can't watch me every minute." She folded her arms and scowled._

" _You are quite mistaken, mistress. You will find that he can. You are under our constant protection and you are quite safe here. I would recommend that you please him and show him respect."_

" _Hmph. Who's going to keep me safe from him?"_

 _The droid ignored her. The lift stopped and he extended his hand to her. "This way, mistress. I will show you to your rooms."_

 _The droid led her down an elegantly appointed corridor, complete with expensive furnishings and artwork crafted by the most gifted artisans._

" _Is this where your master lives?"_

" _No, this is a private establishment that houses commodities such as yourself and is frequented by only the most noteworthy clientele. There are several common areas, such as the cantina, the lounge, banquet hall and ballroom, but for the time being you are restricted to your apartment."_

" _Why doesn't he keep me at his own home?"_

" _Many of our clientele, including your master have matrimonial commitments to others, often for political benefit. Your function is to provide that which the master may or may not receive at home. In short, you are to do everything in your power to bring him joy and ease his stress."_

 _Liaseph rolled her eyes. "Goody."_

" _In return, you will be protected, sheltered and provided with the finest items required for your healthy maintenance. This includes medicine and a private physician if you should fall ill, nourishing food and drink and fine clothing. The master has been known to be generous to those who please him. Treat him well and you will receive pleasing gifts. Which reminds me, what are your gift preferences, so that I may relay the information to my master?"_

" _I don't want anything from him. I want to be free."_

" _I see, mistress. As freedom is an impossibility here, shall I suggest the usual courting, luxury and cultural gifts to secure your affection?"_

" _I don't want courting gifts. My love can't be bought with presents."_

" _The emotion is not a requirement, only your active participation."_

" _My…active participation? I see."_

" _Perhaps the emotion will manifest over time. Ah, here we are." The droid tapped in a keycode and the apartment door slid open. "Your new home mistress."_

 _The droid removed the fur wrap from her shoulders and set it aside._

 _Liaseph took a few tentative steps inside. The room was filled with elegant furnishings, art, and entertainment technology. A massive fireplace dominated one end of the sitting room, a healthy blaze roaring within the firebox._

 _She bypassed the art and fireplace in favour of the windowed wall before her. She pressed her fingers to the glass and stared at the vast cityscape before her. Obsidian glass towers ruled the metropolis and the buildings were anchored in jungle canyons. A light rain pelted the glass and flashes of purple lightning flashed across the dull skies._

" _I've never seen a city like this before…it's enormous. It goes for kilometers! We must be hundreds of feet above it. The towers are even bigger than those on Alderaan."_

" _If the urban view displeases you, there are other settings you may select." The droid plucked a remote pad from the nearby table and tapped in a code for a forest scene, then a palm-filled beach with an ultramarine blue ocean lapping over the pale sand and yet another island view, this one with a waterfall and basking varactyls._

" _There are also seasonal settings…if you prefer—winter, for example."_

 _The view changed again to a forest with snow-laden spruce trees. Large flakes of fluffy snow fell and even stuck to the artificial glass._

 _Liaseph's shoulders slumped as she backed away from the display. "These aren't really windows…they're monitors."_

 _The droid returned the view to the default cityscape. "The master thought you would appreciate a variety. Do you approve mistress?"_

" _It's a cage, Midi—a fancy cage. When you've seen one, you've seen them all," she murmured sullenly and grasped her elbows to hold herself. Her cheeks flushed with the urge to cry, but no tears came._

" _If there is nothing further, mistress? I have other duties."_

 _She shook her head and the droid clattered out of the apartment._

 _No more than twenty minutes had passed since the droid departed and Liaseph sensed a new presence behind her. She remained frozen and refused to turn around. She stared out at the rainy cityscape, but the reflection of a man with slicked back auburn hair approached her from behind. She narrowed her eyes, trying to decide whether the markings on the man's face were tattoos, implants or both._

" _I knew you were beautiful, but I must say your holo portrait fails to do you justice."_

 _She said nothing and didn't move._

" _I brought you a gift…Liaseph."_

 _The man cracked open an elongated box and removed a dazzling choker. He cast the box aside and drew the necklace about her throat, fingers lazing over her collarbones and the nape of her neck as he fastened it._

" _Diamonds, from the Moon of Nothoiin," he whispered. He fanned the jewels across her throat until they were perfectly spaced. His fingertips crept over her shoulders, idly toying with the cap sleeves drooping across her upper arms._

" _Have you nothing to say? A million credits worth of diamonds grace your throat…"_

 _She remained silent and kept her gaze fixed on the rain sliding down the false window. If she'd heard him, she gave no indication of it._

" _Will you not look at your lord?"_

 _She remained a mannequin—cold, unmoving and silent._

 _He closed his eyes and breathed her in. "You smell divine…like Corellian blood roses…and nectar." He tugged at the dainty cap sleeves, and the dress slipped lower until mounds of creamy flesh threatened to spill free from their velvet cage._

" _Speak…I command it!" He barked._

 _She broke away and tore the diamonds from her throat and threw them at his feet. "No!"_

 _((to be continued…))_

 _._


	25. Chapter 25

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Twenty-Four~**

 _Adversity is the forge that makes us strong._

" _You dare insult me?! I'm a Lord of the Sith!" He flung her to the wall with a flick of his arm and held her suspended there._

 _Liaseph shrieked at the sudden motion. Once she was certain he wasn't going to put her through the wall, she stared straight ahead, dark dead eyes careful to focus on anything but him._

 _He snatched the necklace from the floor, diamonds leaking out of his fist as he shook it. "I could kill you for this. It would be my right."_

" _Then do it."_

 _He closed the gap between them and clamped her face in his hand. "Look at me when I speak to you."_

 _Their eyes locked, her hatred palpable between them. Her gaze never wavered as she stared him down, the light in her eyes as sharp as talons._

" _That's better." He released her face and exhaled a deep exasperated breath. He paced the apartment and paused to pour himself two fingers of Whyren's Reserve. He took a swallow, barely savoring the taste of the amber liquid. He hesitated in taking another mouthful, choosing instead to study her over the rim of the tumbler. He fixed her in his sight and his eyes softened along with his voice._

" _Liaseph, do you have any inkling what I do all day? I bicker. That's what I do—I bicker with short-sighted fools everywhere I go. And when I finish bickering with them," he eyed the contents of his glass, "I go home and bicker with my wife and the parade of fools she entertains every night; and when I travel, I bicker with the simpletons governing other worlds."_

 _The arch of her brow was as pointed as an arrowhead. "It never occurred to you that you might be the problem?"_

" _Just what I might expect from a sheltered child. Do you realize The Empire is in danger of being over-run by alien filth? And to think some of my cohorts on the Dark Council would include them in our number." He shook his head, brows pinched in disgust._

 _At the mention of the council, Liaseph eyed the man shrewdly and tracked his movements around the room until he circled back to her._

" _They fail to understand that we don't need this rabble. Twi'leks, Nautolans, Togruta—all manner of filth. They're all as useless as they are repulsive. They defile our world with their very presence."_

" _Oh no, how terrible for you," Liaseph said flatly._

 _The man slammed down his glass and turned on her. "Your insolence annoys me. And you will address me as, 'my lord.'"_

" _How terrible for you—my lord," she mock corrected herself and rolled her eyes._

" _I've had my fill of your impertinence. It's time you learned your place." He claimed her face between his hands like a lover would, but it was a false tenderness. His thumbs swished over her cheeks like angry nexu tails. It appeared that he might kiss her, but when she averted her eyes, he forced her to look at him again._

" _I wanted to spoil you. Had you pleased me, I would have showered you with your heart's desire."_

" _You don't even know what that is. You never will."_

 _He cast his arm in a dismissive wave. "I know enough, women are all the same. They all crave jewels, finery, and stability. I could have provided it all. I would have shown you the galaxy—places you can't even imagine—diplomacy is lonely work when the bickering ends. You would have had a life of dreams by my side. I might have even permitted you to bear my bastards in time."_

" _I don't want anything from you."_

" _But there are things I want from you—and I will get them. I always do."_

" _Not from me you won't."_

" _I beg to differ. You see, there are things you don't know about me. I'm going to tell you a story, Liaseph._

" _Long ago, our Emperor fashioned a device—a very powerful device called the Ravager. It was so powerful he hid it away in the Dark Temple. My master became obsessed with acquiring it. He sent countless reclamation teams to search for it, but they went mad and came up short. Eventually, he abandoned his search and decided to fashion his own device. He devoted every moment to tinkering with it, and I, as his most trusted apprentice, was enlisted to help him._

" _Of course, I gave him just enough to allow him small advances and secure my promotions, but through my research, I discovered a physical device wasn't necessary. It was possible to train the mind to achieve the same ends and as it so happened, I had an aptitude for it. I spent years perfecting my ability. There are precious few minds I can't manipulate—but even the invulnerable have their weaknesses, but I digress._

" _By this time, I was a Lord of the Sith, but I wanted more. So I challenged my master. The fool believed he was close to a breakthrough—what better time to rub his nose in his failure?_

" _I'm sure by now you're hoping I'll tell you what it is I can do. You must be curious."_

 _Liaseph scowled. "Not particularly."_

" _Well my darling," his gaze panned down to her breasts and back up again to meet her eyes, "Why tell you when I can show you?"_

 _His eyes narrowed and Liaseph whimpered. Her mouth fell open and her eyes were as round as coins._

" _W-What—are you doing to me?"_

" _Demonstrating my talent to you, just as I did for my former master. I'll never forget the look on his face. Like you, he tried to resist. But even for a Sith, it was all for naught. You see, I can amplify every terrible memory—every heartbreak, every fear. All the things that terrify you, come alive in frightening detail and only I can stop it from liquefying your mind."_

 _Liaseph gritted her teeth against the onslaught and gasped from the effort. She panted and her brow was dotted with sweat. "Do your w-worst."_

" _I really don't think you want me to do that—my master said the same thing. And then I did this…" He sneered and tightened the hold on her mind._

 _Tears coiled down her cheeks and she gasped as if catching her breath after an hour of holding it in._

" _Then my master said to me, 'Phineas, how is this possible? Tell me.'_

" _And so I did. Instead of creating the device, I became the device. I think that shocked him. And then do you know what he said? Of course, you wouldn't, so I'll tell you." He waved her off._

" _He said, 'Why Phineas?'_

" _And that's when I demanded my due—to sit on the Dark Council as Head of the Sphere of Expansion and Diplomacy. Do you know he had the nerve to say that I would make a poor diplomat? That I hadn't a diplomatic bone in my body? Looking back, perhaps he was right. But what does it matter when I can bend others to my will?"_

 _Liaseph's gloved fingers coiled into fists. "Stop this," she choked out._

" _Now it's my turn to say no. In fact, I think you need to see more of what I'm capable of."_

 _The man clasped his hands behind his back and paced as the attack grew more and more excruciating._

 _She convulsed and screamed until her voice cracked. Her head lolled forward. He returned to her side and gave her a shake. She murmured incoherently and gradually came to. "Stop it…"_

" _My master understood that he'd never defeat me and with his last breath he named me for what I'd become..."_

" _Am I supposed to be impressed?"_

" _Liaseph, your beauty boggles the mind, but that tongue of yours will be the death of you. Of course, you should be impressed."_

" _Well, I'm not. I don't care if you're on the Dark Council."_

" _You're either brave or a complete fool. I think it's more the former than the latter, and I will enjoy breaking you of it."_

" _Why not just kill me?"_

" _For the same reasons our Emperor chose not to kill those who defied him. You are simply too valuable to kill."_

" _You're spent. You can't do it."_

" _You don't honestly believe that was the full measure of my power? Because I can increase your suffering a thousand-fold."_

" _You're a coward," she spat._

" _We'll see who the coward is when we're finished." He gritted his teeth and grasped the air, clenching it tightly in his fist._

 _Liaseph gasped. Her body shuddered as he resumed his abuse._

" _Such exquisite terror, it's like a fine meal. I never expected such fear and misery from someone so young. Can you hear it? Smell it?" He licked his lips and clasped her chin between his fingers, his face close to hers again. "Can you—taste it? I can make you do whatever I want; tell me whatever I want. Let's test that, shall we?" He stroked his jaw as he mulled over ideas. "Tell me the name of your first love."_

" _No…"_

" _Wrong answer, Liaseph."_

 _Her chest rose and fell in shallow panicked breaths. "Stop…"_

" _Tell me the name…and I'll make it stop." His lips edged up at the corners._

 _She snorted three times in rapid succession and winced as she fought the impulse, to tell the truth._

 _He broke off his assault just enough to allow her to breathe and talk. "The name!"_

" _Ry…Rylister. M-Master Rylister," she croaked._

" _A Jedi then. Interesting. Now you see, that wasn't so difficult was it?"_

" _What do you want from me?"_

 _He caressed the side swell of her breast as he considered her question and traced the nipple jutting through the fabric of her dress with his thumb. He leered at her, his mouth splitting into a crooked grin. "Your defiance has proven to be quite arousing. Beg me, Liaseph. Beg me to bed you."_

 _Tears twisted down her cheeks and he leaned in closer. "Remember," he began, "Only I can make the pain stop. Beg me, and all this unpleasantness becomes a memory."_

 _She closed her eyes and turned her head away. The pain asserted itself again and she whimpered._

" _Say it!"_

" _I…I want you to…to bed me," she bit out._

" _Not like that! Like this…" He whispered the words he wanted to hear and Liaseph flushed crimson._

 _Her mouth dropped open. "That's filthy. I'm a lady."_

" _You won't be after I'm done with you. I have no use for fine manners in the bed chamber. Say it."_

 _Her lower lip quivered and she averted her gaze._

 _Exasperated, he huffed a breath and relented. "Then whisper it." His voice softened and he tipped her chin up to look into her eyes. "Only I will hear it."_

 _She pursed her lips and breathed the words he craved against his ear. She drew back slowly, her cheeks flushing anew._

 _He seized the nape of her neck and mashed his mouth to hers, finally breaking the kiss when he needed air._

" _Now say my name."_

* * *

"Ravage!"

I sat bolt upright. Livid and frantic, the man's name left a pebbly residue at the back of my throat. I winced against the bright surgical light above me and the acrid smell of kolto filled my nose.

Vowrawn lowered the data pad he'd been reading and clacked his tongue. "I must say I'm quite disappointed old friend—I've sat here, dutifully for hours and you call _his_ name?"

"I'm in no mood for your jesting, Vowrawn."

"Not to worry, the man gives me nightmares as well."

The Force vision lingered and taunted my rage. I fought to hold on to it, to glean answers I might have missed, but holding onto it presented an illusion of choice I didn't have. Retaining the vision and accessing what I needed in this moment was like trying to hold onto water with my bare hands. The knowledge remained but it was not something I was permitted to use.

"Where's the agent?" I barked. "I was with an agent—Tarkin. Where's Tarkin? I wish to speak with him."

"I would imagine he's at Intelligence undergoing debriefing."

"How did I get here?"

"Tarkin contacted your ship…informed them of your medical emergency—apparently all the while attempting to treat you himself. Poor boy, I think he feared we'd execute him if you died.

"Admiral Vilks, saw to it you were returned to Dromund Kaas, and fortunately for you, I was the one who intercepted his communique. I arranged for my personal physicians to treat you. If I understand correctly, you ran afoul of the Slavemaster Borga?"

"How do you know this?"

"Vilks informed me that you sought to challenge Borga—and I must say your ruse worked splendidly…"

"As usual, I suspect you know about this more than you rightfully should."

"Not at all, old friend. The results of your efforts have been all over the holonet." Vowrawn tapped at his datapad with a flourish of fingers and turned it to face me. The newsreel played clips of various aerial battles over Zygerria and the liberation of countless slaves from the Arkanian camps.

"Congratulations, you've managed to instigate an all-out war between the Jedi and by extension the Republic against the Zygerrian slave trade. Both sides are suffering immeasurable casualties. In one fell stroke, you managed to set two threats to the Empire against each other. Bravo." Vowrawn smacked his lips like a manka cat eyeing a bird. "Well played old friend. I may need to start keeping my eye on you."

I sat up straighter and folded my arms. Bile burned its way up my gullet and I swallowed. "And what of Ravage…"

"As hoped, this latest coup of yours eclipsed his accusations—and in seeing the clever scenario you arranged, the Council is more confident than ever that you've always had the Empire's best interests at heart.

"Ravage's apprentice and the Thul incident, I assure you, are ancient history. In fact—and you didn't hear this from me, but you are to be tapped to launch several campaigns, designed to break the Republic once and for all. We'll drive them into such fits of desperation, they'll play right into our hands. It'll be delightful."

"I have other matters that require my focus."

"Perhaps then, old boy, you'd like to explain that to our hallowed Emperor? I'm sure whatever it is, you can set it aside…or delegate it."

"The Emperor…he's broken his silence?"

"Indeed he has…and he's devised a magnificent plan. By the time you're finished, the Jedi will be practically on their knees begging for a treaty—and then we'll have them. Coruscant—the jewel of their Republic will be crushed under our boot. They'll have no choice. Between your command of the Navy and Malgus' ground troops, Coruscant will burn."

"What is the time table…did he address the council personally?"

"Oh, we're playing the long game, my friend. I don't foresee this coming to fruition for…oh…at least another fifteen years—assuming you succeed in breaking them."

"Fifteen years?" I barked. "That's madness. We don't have the resources for a prolonged war."

"Neither do they, but my sources tell me we have the upper hand. You sound a tad impatient, old boy. I thought extending the Republic's misery would please you."

"As I said, I have other concerns. Did the Emperor himself address the Council in my absence?"

"His Hand relayed the plan to us." Vowrawn's lip edged up impishly.

"I don't care for the look on your face."

"I'll let you in on a little secret…the Emperor's Hand has been in contact with me personally for some weeks now. If I play my cards well…I may serve as their liaison with the Council. Short of becoming a digit, it's all I could have hoped for, and that means, you and I will have the Emperor's hand and his ear…among other things." A naughty gleam lit his ruby coloured gaze.

"For once, can you be serious?"

"Now, where's the fun in that? All the galaxy is our chessboard, Marr, and we have an army of queens."

"As the Head of the Sphere of Diplomacy, I'm sure Ravage will be impressed," I sneered.

"Indeed, that same thought had occurred to me as well…but it's nothing that a well-placed distraction won't solve—we don't need him interfering in our game, do we?"

"There are times I pity anyone who has the misfortune of knowing you."

"Well my good fellow, I think it's time that I be running off. I have to align my dominoes so to speak. I can't wait to set off the chain reaction. Perhaps—I'll invite you to watch the boom."

"I don't have time for your games."

Vowrawn swept the dust from his palms and sighed. "You can't win, if you don't compete."

"You can't lose either."

"Touché, my friend. Touché."

I watched him exit and the impulse to summon him back was almost overwhelming. I considered requesting his assistance but quickly reconsidered—the less he knew of her, the safer she would be.

* * *

An hour later, I strode into Imperial Intelligence and one of the watchers escorted me to Agent Tarkin's location.

At my arrival, those interrogating him scattered like insects. The young agent poured himself a glass of ice water and held up the pitcher in offer. "My lord?"

I waved him away and sensed his silent self-reproach at having made the offer. "At ease. I wish to continue our conversation."

"Or course, my lord." He bowed slightly and clasped his hands behind his back. The agent didn't fawn or grovel, and I appreciated his brand of curt professionalism.

"Before we begin, I wish to extend my appreciation, for your assistance while I was incapacitated. Your dedication has been noted and will be rewarded."

"Thank you my lord."

"I must admit, I'm curious—the timing of your mission on Zygerria seems far too great a coincidence to ignore. Were you sent to intercept me?"

"No my lord—not you. The nature of this mission is classified, however as you are on the Dark Council, may I assume your authorization to continue?"

"Yes. Who were you sent to intercept?"

"A rogue Imperial agent—Cipher Seven."

"They sent _you_ …to intercept a Cipher?"

"Yes, my lord—but it wasn't an intercept mission exactly—it was a termination order. I realize it sounds unusual, but I didn't think it my place to question my superiors."

"You've only just graduated from the program, yes?"

"I've been in the field for seven months now."

"How did the Cipher break protocol?"

"I don't know the exact details, my lord—only that he had become corrupted somehow and was believed to be a threat to Imperial security."

"Did you complete your mission?"

"Yes my lord. Cipher Seven has been terminated."

"Where was the Cipher when you completed your mission?"

"He was located twenty meters from Borga's palace."

While the agent gave no physical indication that something was missing from his story, I sensed his trepidation.

"You haven't been completely forthcoming, Agent. What aren't you telling me?"

Tarkin drew a deep breath and I sensed his anxiety shift to resignation. "Cipher Seven was able to get off a shot before I could stop him."

"This shot…was directed at the ziggurat?"

"Yes my lord. The window to what I believe was the throne room shattered."

"You're aware that the slave master Borga was assassinated?"

"Yes my lord. It's been on the holonet."

"Who gave you the order?"

"Keeper."

"Who gave the order to him?"

"That I don't know, my lord. I would presume the Minister of Intelligence or another member of the Dark Council."

I approached the intercom. "This is Darth Marr. Send Keeper to Conference Room Besh at once."

Ten minutes later, a nervous portly man appeared in the doorway.

"You're not Keeper."

"No, my lord. I'm Watcher Three."

"If I'd wished to speak to you, I would have sent for you. Get me Keeper."

Watcher Three rang his hands. "I-I can't my Lord. He's dead."

"I want Imperial Intelligence locked down. No one is to leave until this matter has been resolved and get me the Minister of Intelligence. Now."

((to be continued…))


	26. Chapter 26

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Twenty-Five~**

 _It is better to have an honest enemy than an ally who lies._

Keeper was dead and three days later the Minister of Intelligence joined him.

The ministry flailed like a serpent with its head cut off—blind and floundering to survive.

Days and nights blended into a grim grey existence where fatigue was the only true indicator of passing time. Even wounded, Intelligence functioned with a precision that needed no clock. So long as every cog bit into the next the wheel would turn.

New men stepped into old boots but the questions remained. An undercurrent of paranoia swept through the departments and while it remained unspoken, I felt it keenly through the darkness.

Whoever perpetrated the coup against Intelligence was a master of misdirection and manipulation and only one man struck me as being clever enough to outsmart Intelligence.

Vowrawn.

But why?

Our last conversation haunted me. Could this have been what he was referring to? The dominoes _were_ falling. They spiraled and twisted in on themselves and would even disappear from time to time, but the fall continued with a steady and mindful purpose—the outcome, not yet in sight, remained a mystery. He had bragged about it, knowing I would dismiss his antics without a second thought.

Was joining the Emperor's Hand so important to him, he would compromise the Empire's security?

Perhaps, but I suspected there was more to it. With Vowrawn, there always was.

My mistake was the same as it always had been; I looked down on his games and dismissed them. That was my folly. I could no longer afford to look away, but I was no match for him either. The games he played didn't span just one board, but a legion of them. Thousands of pieces simultaneously in play and controlled by a patient unerring master. But this time, he _had_ erred. He'd won my attention.

Ravage was a threat to his goals, so he had arranged a distraction. Perhaps, I too had become a threat, and this was _my_ distraction. There was a larger truth at hand. In wounding Intelligence the Empire was compromised-a situation I could never allow as her defender.

Frustration bubbled in my blood. I had no time for this. I had one goal, and that was to find Liaseph—but through Vowrawn's machinations that goal was being pushed further away and I feared losing sight of what mattered.

If the Empire fell, any hope of a life with her would be forfeit and yet if I failed to find her, the outcome would be the same. I was confronted by the choice all Sith dread—but for all our power and freedom, there was only one choice.

My hands coiled into fists at my sides and my face grew hot under my mask. The timing and precision of the deaths; the ensuing chaos were all hallmarks of Vowrawn's stock in trade. He knew I wanted no part in his shenanigans, but chose to force my hand.

Damn Vowrawn.

My anger swelled until it was a nova ready to burst beyond its fleshy cage. My first impulse was to confront him—and then it occurred to me—that would be _precisely_ what he would expectme to do if I suspected him.

He'd observed me since I was a boy and knew my temperament almost as well as I knew it myself. I would need to act against his expectations and I would require help.

But who could I trust? I'd spent my life keeping others at arm's length and my only ally was playing me, of this, I had no doubt.

Intelligence was no longer a writhing snake, but an ant colony with rows of grey drones marching back and forth. Separate from the blur, one man dominated the chaos before me—Garet Tarkin.

He stood at the center of the discord, sharp eyes fixed on his surroundings and I sensed his mind interpreting the patterns unfolding around him. For a young non-Force user his acuity was almost unsettling. A man of his intellect was wasted in field work.

Enlisting the agent was both a longshot and a risk but I had to begin somewhere. His eyes sharpened and their hawkish intensity fixed on me as I approached him.

"My lord."

"Agent Tarkin, I need to speak to you—privately. Away from here."

He bowed curtly, his hand splayed over his heart. "Understood."

I summoned my chauffeur and we left the citadel in my limousine. After a quarter of an hour traveling in silence, I was the first to speak.

"Do you have any allegiance to any other Sith lord? Moff or Grand Moff?"

"No my lord."

"I require your assistance in a sensitive matter and I must be assured of your complete discretion."

Tarkin wasn't quick to respond. "Of course, my lord."

"I sense some hesitation in you, Agent."

"Please don't misunderstand, I only hesitate because I don't know what precisely you require from me."

"What I require—is your vigilance. I suspect an associate of mine is responsible for tampering with Intelligence and what I want to know is _why_."

"I see. Permission to speak freely, my lord."

"Granted."

"With all due respect, Lord Marr, I don't know what it is you're looking for—if this is a campaign against another Dark Council member, I require certain assurances and safeguards. I have witnessed what becomes of agents, who become embroiled in disputes between Sith lords. I do not fear death, but I do fear a waste. As a junior field agent, I lack both the clearance—and the authority—to execute the sort of investigation your request mandates."

"Very well, then I appoint you to be the new head of the Department of Destabilization."

Tarkin's eyes widened shrewdly. "Destab? My lord?"

"Is that a problem, agent?"

"My lord, they—they perpetrate every manner of atrocity—they tear entire worlds apart and all of it sanitized as if it never happened." He swallowed hard. "In all honesty, I don't believe I'm qualified."

"You're a man of integrity—precisely what I require. Destab, as you call it, moves with complete impunity. No one will challenge your authority or clearance. If you require assistance, you have the power to recruit anyone you deem of use directly from the program. Serve me well and I will see you elevated to Keeper within five years."

"That's unprecedented. I never considered that a possibility, my lord."

"Then consider it. You answer _only_ to me. You do not act without consulting me first. Here is the data you require to begin. I want to know precisely what Lord Vowrawn is up to. I want to know _all_ of it. I suspect unraveling it won't be easy."

"Nothing worthwhile ever is, my lord."

I passed him the data spike and his new clearance and designation. "Your new designation is Tersus. Report to me only as necessary and never at the Citadel. My personal frequency is included in the data."

"Thank you, my lord. I do have one further question. Who is the head of the Sphere of Imperial Intelligence?"

"The position is vacant at this time and will remain so until our work is finished. Work quickly, Tersus."

"Yes, my lord, I believe I take your meaning."

I dismissed the agent and returned to my stronghold. I had the solitude I craved, but it wasn't enough to put my mind to rest. I stalked the confines of my sanctum mindlessly, each lap bringing me back to the same point—the holocom. I secured a channel and punched in the frequency.

Master Rylister's holo image rose from the console. He straightened and squared his shoulders to make himself appear larger, like an animal confronted by a predator. "Marr."

"Did your raid of the Arkanian facility yield any new information?"

"No. They scrubbed everything."

"I'm curious, how did you know where to find the facility?"

"My contacts in the SIS..." Rylister crossed his arms and paced the conference room on his ship.

"Were they able to determine where Liaseph has been taken?"

"Enough Marr. I _know_ you're responsible. You've been planning this all along. You must think I'm a complete fool. You used her to force a war between the Jedi and the Slavers. Don't even try to deny it. The SIS confirmed it."

I glared at the Miraluka and laughed ruefully. "Clearly the SIS doesn't traffic in truth."

"What do you know about the truth? You're Sith," Rylister hissed.

"I know enough to recognize a lie when I hear one. You _knew_ I was going to Zygerria. I transmitted my co-ordinates to you prior to leaving Alderaan, but instead of rendezvousing with me, you chose to inform the SIS of my whereabouts and raid Arkania on your own.

"Your government brought this war onto themselves. The assassin's bullet was never meant for Borga was it? It was meant for _me_."

"I would have been a fool to pass up the chance to eliminate not only a Dark Council member but the Empire's defender. Hundreds of thousands are dead because of you. You're a monster and even if I knew where Liaseph was, I'd _never_ tell you."

I chuckled mirthlessly. "Yours is not the first assassination attempt I've survived, and certainly not the most competent."

"And it won't be the last either. I won't permit you to hurt her. I'll see you dead before that happens."

"Then find her."

The transmission crackled and Rylister's image shivered and blinked. The vessel's warning klaxon sounded in the background and the lighting level dropped to a red spectrum.

The Sullustan pilot slumped over the ships controls and sparks leapt from the console.

The ships droid advanced, its tinny arms extended to maintain its balance against the onslaught. "Master Rylister we're under attack. The Imperials! Oh, my. We're being boarded, sir. What do we do?"

The ship jolted and smoke filled the heart of the vessel.

"What trickery is this Marr? Your frequency… you led them right to me!"

A boarding pod pierced the hull knocking the Jedi off his feet and the transmission cut off, leaving static in its wake.

I bashed my fist against the console and swore. "Idiot. The channel was secured."

((to be continued…))


	27. Chapter 27

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Twenty-Six~**

 _There is no passion, there is only the Empire._

I brooded over the holocom, the static still alive in my ears. "Trace the co-ordinates of the last incoming signal."

"Tracing coordinates," the com's artificial voice announced. "Triangulating—trace complete. The last incoming transmission originated from the Saleucami system, Suolriep sector at these coordinates."

I pressed a data spike into the unit and locked it into position with a twist. "Save location. Open encrypted channel Tersus. For his eyes only."

"Hailing Tersus."

The chime sounded twice. The image of the former Agent Tarkin, rose from the center of the console as if he'd been awaiting the call. Donning the black Destab uniform, the agent wore his new authority well.

"Tersus here—incoming transmission received, documented and dissolved. What can I do for you, my lord?"

"A Jedi vessel at those co-ordinates was boarded by one of ours. I want to know by whom and if the Jedi commander of that vessel was taken captive or executed. Contact me the moment you have details. Be wary and move with subtlety."

"Understood, my lord."

After terminating the connection, I looked down at the city through rain veiled glass. My eyes itched and I removed my mask to rub the grainy sensation away. The stims I'd taken to counteract the string of sleepless days and nights at the ministry had faded and left me depleted.

The heaviness in my aching limbs could no longer be denied and I stripped for bed. After seeing to the usual needs, I sat on the edge of my mattress and yawned. Bleary eyed, I flung myself into my pillows and wrested the bedcovers over my shoulder until everything was blotted out.

Invariably, my last thoughts before surrendering to sleep were of Liaseph. None of the subtle inquiries I'd made through the usual channels yielded any insight as to her whereabouts. It was as if she'd disappeared into the pale, forever beyond my reach.

I searched the cheerless dusk in my mind for her face and when I found it, I pretended she was with me. Longing coursed through every muscle and sinew in my body and woke my desire. I thought of all I'd do if she were with me, but exhaustion prevented me from thinking let alone indulging in selfish gratification.

Despite my best efforts to hold fast to her memory, she vanished and I was left with the worry that I might not be able to conjure her face again. I had to prove to myself I could and reached for her again to no avail.

The harder I tried, the worse it became. All that remained was the familiar touch of the Forcetide, bringing with it the truth I sought when my perceptions of long gone realities no longer stood in my way. The truth would haunt my dreams.

 _Flames tumbled in the fireplace and cast a wavering amber light throughout the room. Strains of soft music bound light to shadow._

" _When will you understand, Liaseph? This is your life now." Ravage pushed the small square box toward her. "Take it. Don't try my patience. It's a gift. I had it made for you."_

 _Liaseph turned away. "I told you I don't want things."_

" _Are you not curious? Will you not even look at it?"_

" _No."_

 _In a rare and unsettling display of patience, Ravage set the gift aside. "This time, you said you didn't want things. What is it you want?"_

" _You know what I want. I want to be free."_

" _Free? To do what? To search out your Jedi love? They don't feel as we do. He's forgotten you."_

 _Liaseph averted her gaze and fixed her attention on the flames. His words had wounded her._

 _He reached out and clasped her chin between his fingers and gently turned her face to his. "Do you despise all material things or just the ones I give you?"_

" _You don't understand."_

" _Then make me understand."_

" _My father thinks like you do. Everything can be fixed with a gift when all I ever wanted was his time. You remind me of him and I despise him. He sold me like I was nothing."_

" _Then the man is a fool and if it would please you, I would end his intolerable existence."_

 _She looked at him incredulously. "That's a bit hypocritical isn't it?"_

" _How so?"_

" _The man who enslaves me would murder the one who made it possible?"_

" _I'm not like him."_

" _You're worse."_

" _Look at me, Liaseph, do I revolt you that much?"_

 _She sighed and favored him with a pitying look. "No. You're not revolting to look at—it's your petulance that repels me—and your hypocrisy."_

 _He stood and stalked toward the fireplace. He poked at it sullenly, as if expecting the fire to apologize to the wood for burning it._

 _Instead of ignoring his sulking, she filled two dainty goblets with a vermilion coloured liqueur. Her gaze turned shrewd. "Do you have a family? You mentioned a wife…do you have children too?"_

" _A son and a daughter. They're on Korriban, training to become Sith."_

 _She passed him one of the goblets and sat by him, dark eyes emboldened by the flames reflected in them._

" _And what of your family?" Ravage sampled the sherry and cradled the bulb of the goblet in his hand._

" _I have a sister. She lives with my father on Alderaan. He always favored her. You probably would have too."_

" _And why would that be?"_

" _She always did what was expected of her."_

" _I take it she liked his gifts?" His lip tilted up in what passed for a smile._

" _She did, as a matter-of-fact." Liaseph smiled and the fact that it was for him, was like a knife._

" _Do you miss her?"_

" _Sometimes…even though she betrayed me, I still think about the times we had together."_

" _Perhaps one day…" Ravage hesitated and returned the poker to the hearth._

" _Finish what you were going to say." Liaseph set the drink down and shifted forward on the chair, her expression rapt._

" _Perhaps one day…I could arrange for a visit. I'm not without connections."_

" _You could do that?" Her voice held a note of uncertainty but her eyes flared with possibility._

" _I'm on the Dark Council. I can do as I please." He stood and offered his hand. "A dance?"_

" _All right…"_

 _He drew her close and breathed her in, his eyes closing. "There's something about you Liaseph—I think you've bewitched me."_

 _She said nothing and stared off into the distance over his shoulder. Firelight ricocheted off her sequined gown and shot tiny flares about the room. His hand hovered over the small of her back, his thumb skimming the soft ravine over her spine._

" _Could we go outside? I'd love to see the night sky…" She breathed against his ear._

 _He drew back, his eyes narrowed with a hopeful wariness. "If the stars please you then I shall give them to you. Come."_

 _The private elevator carried them to the roof garden. "No rain—a rare clear night,"he commented idly._

 _She gazed out at the nightscape—shimmering obsidian towers touched by silver light—the city in all its grandeur. "It's beautiful—what's it called?"_

" _Kaas City…the capital of our world Dromund Kaas. I was born here."_

" _I've never seen anything like this. Will you tell me about it?"_

" _Of course—and one day, I may even take you about and share all of its delights with you."_

" _I'd like that. What's that building over there—with all the lights?"_

" _That is the Nexus Room—a cantina and night club."_

" _So many people lined up to get in. It looks—exciting."_

" _I wouldn't know."_

" _Why not?"_

" _Look at me Liaseph…do I look the sort to frequent nightclubs?"_

 _She smirked. "No—but I bet they'd give you the best table in the house. Maybe it wouldn't hurt you to try it once. What about that one? With the dark shell around it?"_

" _The Kaas City Opera House. The Imperial Theatre is there—just beside it."_

" _The productions must be amazing."_

" _I've never been."_

" _For a man who can do anything, you've done surprisingly little. Where do you go when you're not here?"_

" _Over there…The Citadel and Sith Sanctum."_

" _Such a tall building. It must be magnificent inside."_

" _The Citadel is a wondrous place…filled with artifacts, libraries, cultural exhibits—"_

"— _And Sith lords…"she interrupted._

" _Yes…plenty of those too." His lip furled._

" _What are the other Sith like?"_

" _So full of questions suddenly..."_

 _She arched an eyebrow and pouted. "I could go back to being taciturn and difficult."_

" _I'd rather you didn't…" He traced her exposed shoulder with his knuckle. "You have such passion…if only you were born Sith. You've made me aware of a great many things tonight, Liaseph."_

" _Like what?"_

" _That I haven't truly lived. But perhaps with you at my side, I may at last."_

 _She shivered and clasped her elbows._

" _You're cold…" He unclasped his cloak and swept it over her shoulders._

 _Tears came unbidden before she could stifle them and her lip quivered miserably._

" _What?" Ravage frowned._

" _Nothing—I was reminded of another time—another night."_

" _That contemptible Jedi…" Ravage snapped. "Is that who you were thinking about?"_

 _She dropped her gaze, but the tears escaped under her lashes. He glanced over at her and sighed with a resignation I'd never seen from him before. He stole her tears away with his thumb and closed his eyes for a moment. He breathed deeply as if he'd taken in a provocative scent._

" _I'm sorry," Liaseph whispered. "Let's talk about something else. Tell me about your friends in the Citadel."_

" _The Sith have no friends."_

" _Then tell me about your co-workers?"_

" _A waste of a fine evening, but if it amuses you. Let's see…Darth Thanaton—a caustic prig of a man always rambling on about traditions and decorum—He oversees the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge. He's new. If I could set a plague of pyromantic ants on him, I would."_

 _Liaseph giggled through her tears._

 _Ravage smirked. "You think that's funny, do you? Sadistic little thing. I quite like that side of you. Better than weeping over some Jedi, I'd say."_

" _Much better. Please continue. I find the Sith fascinating."_

" _Very well. After Thanaton, there's Vowrawn—Production and Logistics. The fop irritates me. I don't know which is worse, him or his straight man."_

" _His straight man?"_

" _Marr. Where Marr is, Vowrawn isn't far behind." Ravage shook his head._

 _Her eyes widened, suddenly alive, like a string instrument touched by an expert hand. "Strange name…Marr." She smiled coyly. "He sounds terrible."_

" _You have no idea. I've heard stories that would tarnish your dreams." He took her hand and pressed a kiss over her fingertips._

" _I like a good story."_

 _Ravage scowled. "There's nothing good about it, but he's devoted to his mistress, I'll give him that."_

 _Her brows pinched together. "He has a mistress? Is she beautiful?"_

" _You sound as if you're jealous."_

" _Why would I be?"_

" _He'd be hard-pressed to find one as beautiful as you are—but his mistress isn't a woman."_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _He lives for the Empire, and he would do anything for her."_

" _Like what?"_

" _Oh…I've heard rumors—that he's possessed by Dark side entities. He's never lost a battle, but with every victory, he becomes less the man that he once was—probably why he won't show his face. I would end him…but it's said his demons would possess the one who defeats him. I'm no fool. I prefer keeping my own faculties."_

" _He sounds dedicated."_

" _Hmph," Ravage sneered "It's not dedication. It's an obsession—a common flaw among our kind—destroying themselves for more power. I suppose my only solace is that every victory brings him closer to ruin. That day will come soon enough—our Emperor commands him to bring the Republic to its knees. War is coming…and he is its harbinger. The Emperor wills it."_

" _I thought the galaxy was already at war."_

" _Not like this. They won't expect it. The galaxy is his arena and I hope he destroys himself," he muttered through gnashed teeth._

 _She looked up at him wide-eyed with horror. "So he's sacrificing himself…for the Empire?"_

" _You could look at it that way," he snapped. "I tire of speaking about him."_

 _Rebuffed by his tone, she steeled herself. "Do you have allies on the Council? Is there anyone you like?"_

" _Vengean and Azamin have my respect. Mortis, perhaps."_

 _She gazed at him sympathetically but remained silent._

" _I've found confiding in you most refreshing. No one, not even my wife has ever shown interest in what it is I do."_

" _I'm sorry…my lord."_

 _He seized her upper arms. "Stop looking at me with those pitying eyes. I don't want pity from you. I'd rather your hatred."_

" _Why?"_

" _Because it's closer to passion." He released her roughly and turned his back to her. "What have you done to me? I sound like a pup, simpering for your affection."_

" _I haven't done anything—all I wanted was your time."_

" _If it's my time and attention you desire, I can give you that in abundance."_

" _You mean that don't you?"_

" _I suppose I do." His mouth pressed into a thin tight line and his sharp eyes glinted with amusement. "Now that I've shown you the sky…I want something in return."_

" _What?"_

 _He licked his lips and his face darkened with need. "Worship me."_

" _I don't know how…"_

" _Then do as I say—get on your knees." He unzipped his trousers and presented his erection to her. "I want to feel those lips…pleasure me."_

 _The Forcetide mercifully spared me the vision of what happened next but left no doubt in my mind that it did. The dream continued and I knew she'd pleased him and that his conquest of her continued inside._

 _The room was dark, but I could see their silhouettes on the bed, their bodies touched by a stray silvery light._

 _I began to question why the Force would subject me to this—a moment more intimate than any sexual act. Their bodies were nestled close, his arm draped over her side. There was only one truth in their repose—she had forgotten me._

 _The dream stung. Even in sleep I felt my anger surge and my heart quicken, and then I saw what hope looked like—her eyes opened and over the course of several minutes, she edged away from him, every movement calculated to avoid waking him. She held her breath until she was free of the bed._

 _She dressed quickly and wrapped herself in his cloak for lack of another. She stole through his pockets until she found her prize—his access card to the club._

 _At the door, she hesitated—but not because he'd stirred or awakened. The look in her eyes suggested pity. She didn't want to hurt him, and for a moment, I thought she had reconsidered—a moment far more painful for me to endure than the idea of their lovemaking or the quietude that followed it._

 _It wouldn't be until many years later, that I would understand—they were the same, both of them lonely and greedy for time and attention, but by then I had become the monster I was destined to be—free of ego, free of cupidity—and free of caring._

 _There is no passion—there is only the Empire._

 _Liaseph crept through the apartment to the door. She cringed at the squeak of the hinges and the light spilling in from the corridor as she made her getaway._

 _The access card freed her of the building. Outside and unseen, she kept to the shadows cast by the dark towers lining the streets. She paused only to set her hand over her chest to calm her heart and when she regained her composure, she strode toward the Citadel._

 _Lightning brightened her path with flashes of purple and she quickened her pace, his cloak trailing through the puddles behind her._

 _Several blocks later, with the building in sight, she beamed through her tears and strode toward the doors, jubilant and relieved. She tested the doors and found them locked._

 _After peering inside, she tried the doors again, her brows knitted in a desperate panic. Back and forth she raced tugging at each door with the mad hope one of them had magically decided to admit her._

 _A limousine, escorted by two trooper filled carriers pulled up next to the building. The security detail emerged first, and upon seeing the cloaked figured testing the doors, they took a defensive posture and the CO fired a tranq dart._

 _Liaseph dropped, her body sprawled over the pavement._

 _The guards moved to collect her._

 _A scarlet-robed figure emerged from the back of the limousine and toyed with his tendril ring as he appraised the situation._

" _A bit early for visitors, wouldn't you say? Who could possibly want inside the Citadel so badly at this hour, besides me?"_

 _The guards snickered at their master's good-natured purr._

 _The commanding officer approached the scarlet robbed man. "My lord, perhaps it would be best to remain inside your vehicle until we've dealt with the intruder and negated the threat."_

" _Where's the fun in that?" The figure waved them off. "My stalwart protectors. I can always count on you, but there's no threat here."_

 _He approached the trooper carrying Liaseph. "Let me have a look, I trust you've only just stunned her?"_

" _Yes my lord—in case you deemed interrogation necessary."_

 _He turned her face up, his thumb grazing her cheek. "No—no threat here at all, gentlemen. I know all I need to."_

 _He fingered the deep burgundy cloak and nodded in recognition of the garment._

" _Take her back to her master, and kindly remind security there to keep a better eye on my property or the consequences will be most dire. Make sure she remains unharmed—that is to say, return her carefully. It would be better for her if her master didn't learn of her little escapade this evening."_

" _Yes my lord."_

" _Now…I must see to business. The pieces are in motion! Gentlemen…after you."_

The com chimed, and I rolled over to glare at the time. Who dared to call this early? I squinted at the image paused over the holocom display.

* * *

I flopped back into my pillows and growled a sigh. "Open encrypted channel Tersus. Audio only. Marr here."

"Forgive the hour my lord, but you did say to contact you the moment I'd learned anything in regards to the Saleucami boarding."

"I know what I said. What have you learned?"

"The Jedi's ship and crew were destroyed, but after running an analysis on the wreckage, I've come to the conclusion that Rylister was not on board when it blew. Every indication suggests he's been taken into custody."

"Who boarded the vessel?"

"Moff Broysc, my lord. The _Actaeon_ was the only Imperial

vessel in the sector at the time. There was also a predator-class scout ship in the vicinity registered to a bounty hunter, Collo Vex, though there is no indication that the hunter was involved."

I hissed a heavy sigh and clamped my temples together. "Where is the _Actaeon_ now?"

"Moored at the depot for minor repairs and refuel at Kaas City."

"And the bounty hunter?"

"He was cleared to land in the capital as well—everything seems in order. Shall I have him found and detained?"

"Mmm—something doesn't add up. Do you have a copy of the _Actaeon's_ manifest? Was there any mention of captives taken in Broysc's report?"

"None, my lord. Nor is there any record of any incident with a Jedi vessel."

"Where is Broysc now?" I rolled out of bed and paced.

"Unclear, my lord—he was scheduled for shore leave upon arrival."

"Find him—and hold the bounty hunter for questioning. I find it unlikely that one of ours would attack a ship that size if they intended to board. The Jedi must be found."

"Understood, my lord."

((to be continued…))


	28. Chapter 28

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Twenty-Seven~**

 _The difficulty is not in making a choice, but living with it._

I had seen the signs before.

Every creature, both feral and tame burrowed deep into their dwellings. Even the vegetation recoiled, leaves curling in on themselves to shun the ebonizing mist rolling in from the heart of Kaas City.

Dark as soot, the sky churned, only to be split apart by unusually violent jags of lightning, and when the rains came, it was as if every being in the galaxy wept at once.

Water flowed counter to its natural direction—an occurrence that shouldn't have been possible in our hemisphere.

The darkness in me quickened and I had no doubt of what it all meant: The Emperor had returned to Dromund Kaas.

Eight years ago, he'd sought an extension of his might—one who would hunt down and destroy his disgruntled apprentice, Exal Kressh.

Despite her illustrious beginning, she faded into history as a bit player—another failed apprentice chafing under her master's control. While I played a part in the matter, it amounted to little more than a footnote in my own narrative.

I had dismissed Kressh, but I could never dismiss her master and what his presence meant. Nor could _he_ dismiss _me_ it seemed. I answered his summons and stood before the throne in his personal sanctum.

This time, he sought to destroy entire worlds and I had been chosen as the architect of the Republic's downfall.

I struggled with the insurmountable task of forging the military spheres into one cohesive unit. The very nature of the Sith railed against unity and loyalty. Herding Loth-cats would be easier than convincing my peers to work as one. I believe he sensed the brief levity of my thoughts and I was graced by his unsettling amusement.

He appeared little different from the man I remembered. He was human and what remained of his hair, was shorn close to his skull, so much so, that it could have passed for shadow. His eyes blazed, the shade close enough to flame, that the ancients might have believed him the embodiment of their sacred fire.

Deep purple veins fractured his pallid cheeks, and the commanding voice I remembered, spoke with a falsely patient whisper.

Not even my intimacy with the darkness was enough to shield me from his necrotic presence.

His commands clung to me like spider webs. My body was bound in them and I pitied anyone forced into prolonged contact with our Emperor. The more I considered him, the tighter the webbing burrowed into my flesh until I was forced to choose between understanding and the madness that came with it or to accept what I knew of him without question and keep my sanity intact.

Before the audience ended, a moment passed between us when I caught a glimmer of what the future held in store—specifically the moment of my death, but the full weight of the vision's meaning eluded me. I only understood more fully what I had always known—death was our solace.

His parting words lingered and I wanted nothing more than to put them from my mind. I rarely felt such a relief to return home, but his words followed me there—an insistent and troubling notion that I failed to understand.

 _Your sacrifice will not be in vain—what is yours—one day, will be mine and when the darkness finds you, you will face it alone._

The holocom chimed and I was grateful for the distraction it promised. I accepted the encrypted transmission and waited until the winking blue image stabilized.

"Marr here."

"My lord." Tersus offered a curt bow before continuing. "I have something that may interest you—something you should see."

"You know where I am. I'll be waiting."

"Understood, my lord."

Not a half hour later, Tersus arrived, the thunder and rain following him inside my mountain stronghold. Livid purple flashes illuminated the great hall, and I indicated he follow me into my study, well away from the storm's distraction.

"What have you learned? Did you locate Moff Broysc?"

"I have, my lord. My men found him in a local gentlemen's club impaired by a substance they referred to as— _Glitter Jack._ I'm afraid he won't be of much use to us in his current condition. I took the liberty of having him admitted to rehabilitation."

"Some sort of spice, I take it?"

"Yes, my lord. I understand prolonged use makes one prone to delusions of grandeur, paranoia, and early onset dementia."

"Perhaps it would be better to cut our losses now."

"I admit the same thought crossed my mind, but his service record up until now has been exemplary. It seemed a waste to dispose of a seasoned officer for one lapse in judgment, but if you prefer, I need only give my men the word…"

"That won't be necessary for the time being. What of the bounty hunter?"

"Regrettably, he received departure clearance before we could detain him. I am, however, monitoring the usual locations his sort frequent."

I folded my arms. "I trust you have more than _this_ …"

"Yes, my lord. As we suspected, the Jedi was taken into custody. Admittedly, the means in which I extracted this information is rather unconventional, but it seems to have proven effective."

"Explain."

"I pulled the sound and visuals from a torture droid's ocular and auditory inputs."

"A torture droid?"

"Yes, my lord. Initially, I'd hoped to obtain a security recording, however, it would appear those are not permitted inside the inquisition chambers.

"I took the liberty of transferring the data from the droid's inputs to this spike for more efficient playback. May I, my lord?" He indicated the display terminal, the recording trapped between his fingers.

"Proceed."

"I've tidied the visuals as much as possible, but it's the audio portion I think you'll be interested in most, my lord."

"We shall see. Initiate playback."

Tersus tapped the console and stood off to one side to allow a clear view.

The image was little more than a mottled blur of flesh tones at first. The torture droid's oculus zeroed in on the subject, revealing barely creased flesh, wisps of flaxen hair and a dark durasteel band bridging the temples.

The lens drew back and refocused to reveal the countenance of a male Miralukan Jedi. Even before the imaged cleared, I recognized Rylister's body pinioned to the interrogation table.

He didn't speak or flinch, which led me to suspect he was unconscious. I strained to listen to a pair of muted voices in the background.

"Increase audio—filter and clarify," Tersus commanded.

I tipped my head forward, my brows pinching beneath my mask as I listened.

"Truly outstanding work—a job well done. You are to be commended," the male voice oozed.

"Vowrawn," I hissed in recognition.

Tersus nodded and lowered his gaze to continue listening.

"Thank you, my lord. It was an honour to serve you," the second voice squawked. The pitch already grated on my nerves with the few words spoken.

"Moff Broysc," Tersus clipped.

A shadow loomed over the Jedi's face as if someone had leaned in closer to study the man's features.

"I trust you made no mention of our little acquisition on your manifest?"

"No, my lord. Exactly like you wanted! And I blew the scab's ship to smithereens. Boom! Barely knew what hit 'im!" A rapid staccato of squeaky gasps suggested Broysc's laughter and I cringed.

"Excellent." Vowrawn's words fell from his lips like iced silk. "I _knew_ I could count on you. I foresee a career filled with great _highs_ —and to show you the _depths_ of my appreciation, I've secured this for you—a token of my gratitude in light of your service."

"My lord—an aurodium pass! I don't know what to say."

"Say nothing. The delights are nothing short of intoxicating—something for every taste and persuasion. No appetite is too depraved—and discretion is the better part of vice, I say."

"Thank you, thank you, my lord."

"Oh no. Thank _you_. In fact, if I might suggest the _Glitter Jack_ —a favorite recommendation of mine. The blend is remarkable. I daresay it will carry you to new heights of ecstasy…"

"With such a recommendation, I will make a point of it. Thank you, my lord."

"Now, if you'll excuse me…our Jedi friend will not interrogate himself. But there is one more thing before you go—just between us," Vowrawn whispered.

"Yes, my lord?"

"There was _no_ Jedi…and _I_ was never here."

"There…was…no Jedi and you were never here…" Broysc parroted in a dreamy tone.

"Now be gone. Don't tarry, you have spice to sample."

A few moments of silence passed before Vowrawn spoke again. "IR-T8, would you kindly revive our guest?"

The droid gurgled its agreement and a soft pfft sound suggested the application of a stim.

Rylister groaned as he came to. Pale and dotted with sweat, he sucked in one raspy breath after another through dry cracked lips.

"Good of you to join us," Vowrawn chirped.

"Who—urgh…who the hell are you?" Rylister wriggled against the bindings pinning him to the table and a branch of electricity licked up his arms to spread over his torso until his entire body shook.

"Your new master."

"You're _Sith_ …"

"As you will be soon enough."

"The hell I will. What d'you want?" Rylister rasped.

"Why—to thank you, of course."

"You've got a funny way of showing gratitude." Rylister licked his lower lip and winced at the taste of blood oozing from it.

"I assure you, your ears do not deceive you, my friend. You performed admirably. I couldn't have asked for better if I'd asked."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Because of you, an obstacle was removed and I was able to acquire several properties I've had my eye on for some time. The former owner had the poor sense to refuse my most generous offer. Can you imagine?"

"I'd rather not."

"No only that, the damages you and your Jedi cohorts incurred had a profound effect on the price. Even with the renovations, you'll have saved me millions—and instigated a most profitable war as a bonus."

"I'd rather die than help you."

"Dear boy, why so testy? It would have been rude to overlook your part in my little scheme. I think you'll be quite useful in my future endeavors."

"Go to hell."

"Vowrawn chuckled. "Look around you, Master Jedi. What makes you believe we are not already there? We _are_ in hell and I am the master of ceremonies. IR-T8, if you would be so kind as to administer a course of serums to our guest."

The torture droid produced a syringe appendage.

"Get the kark away from me!"

A stream of vibrant green liquid shot from the droid's needle as it prepared the treatment. It hovered over Rylister and jabbed the syringe into his neck. He struggled against his bonds until lightning arced over his body in thick purple bands. He thrashed until his bones creaked and he bit his tongue to keep from screaming.

Vowrawn said nothing, but his shadow moved over the Jedi, as the droid injected course after course of whatever serum he'd decided to torture him with. The Jedi moaned and coughed, spittle leaking from his mouth. His skin paled and rills of sweat snaked down his face to pool under his Adam's apple.

Tersus tapped the console. "Needless to say, this continues for some time. In the interest of efficiency, I would suggest advancing the recording, my lord."

"Agreed."

Rylister's blurred features streaked by until the recording slowed to resume.

Pale and shaking, the Jedi panted. "Why…are you…doing this?"

"Because _your_ betrayal set the pieces in motion—you informed the SIS where Marr would be; they ordered their infiltrator, Cipher 7 to kill him. And our Keeper dispatched an agent to eliminate _him_ —which alerted me to the fact that our trusted Keeper was one of _yours_."

" _You_ had them killed…"

"Oh not _me_ personally, of course. We observe something called a chain of command."

"How would you know?"

"Consider this—who would send a neophyte agent barely out of the program to kill a cipher? Sheer foolishness. It was an action doomed to fail."

"But…he succeeded."

"Ah yes, so he did. Unlike your infiltrator. He was the one who made my business transaction possible."

"You did all this to monopolize the slave trade?"

"Hardly."

"If you…if you know all this. Why do you need me?"

"Because there is one small detail that puzzles me…and I do hate puzzles. I much prefer games."

"What makes you think I know anything, and if I did, that I'd tell you?"

"I have a few reasons, but for now they'll remain my own. There is at least one more infiltrator…the one who removed the Minister of Intelligence—someone on the outside—someone no one would expect. I want to know who it is."

"I don't know," Rylister hissed, blood tinged spittle spraying from his lip as he spoke.

"And here I thought you had more sense. I'll need to find a more effective means of prying the name from your mind. Our conversation, you'll find was quite pleasant by comparison. I shudder to think what will become of your mind…and I dare say, your precious Jedi sensibilities."

Rylister roared and flung himself as far as his restraints would allow in a last effort to free himself. Prongs of lightning kindled his flesh. The Jedi convulsed. A thread of bloody spittle stretched off his lower lip until it grew into a dollop and fell onto his chest. The light behind his visor faltered as his attempt to summon the Force failed him.

Vowrawn sighed. "My dear boy, if you are to play a game, you must realize, there are different levels of devils. IR-T8…send in the bounty hunter."

A gravelly voice asserted itself in the chamber. "Exalted Boss of Bosses."

"Rise, Captain Vex. Hunting is treating you well, I trust? Your rivals must be twisting with fury at your latest success?"

"Heh, that's puttin' it mildly, Boss. I had some stiff competition this year. So what's the deal with the Jedi? I need him to collect my bounty and I need him alive."

"I wouldn't dream of depriving you of your hard earned pay…in fact…I will transfer three times the amount the bounty is worth to your accounts and you inform your employer, that the bounty is beyond your reach, but not beyond _his_. I'm certain he will take your meaning."

"And what if he takes the news poorly? I'd rather keep on living."

"That's why you will contact him from your ship. Here is your clearance to depart. At the conclusion of my business with him, I will transfer a token of my appreciation to your accounts. I trust that arrangement will suffice?"

"Yeah, yeah, it'll suffice, Boss."

"Excellent. Then consider yourself dismissed. We're finished here. IR-T8, be so kind as to take yourself offline and shut down for the remainder of the day."

Tersus returned to the console. "End playback."

No sooner had the recording ended, the com unit chimed and I cursed the interruption.

"Marr here," I barked, my saber hand coiling into a fist. "What is it, Admiral?"

Vilks bowed and then straightened. "My Lord, the _Erinyes_ has completed refuel and resupply and the fleet is ready to move out at once."

"Noted."

"My lord, it's imperative we leave at once. The Emperor—"

"—Admiral Vilks—the fleet will remain where it is until I give the order."

"My lord, you _must_ join us at once. We can't abide any further delay."

"Abide _this_." I snatched the air before me and tightened my grip. Vilks's image rose before me and clutched at his throat gasping.

"I will determine the moment of our departure. Understood?"

Vilks choked and writhed, but managed to gain enough quarter to answer. "U-unquestionably."

I released my hold on the officer and smashed out the connection with the com. "Marr _out_."

((To be continued…))


	29. Chapter 29

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Twenty-Eight~**

 _Duty is the sacrifice of self._

I turned my back to Tersus and focussed my rage on the hearth. The flames climbed ever higher and the darkness was a chorale filling my ears with demands for Vilks's blood. The fire flared from amber to blue and its ferocity was enough to cow the darkness.

The agent said nothing, but I could sense the covert inner workings of his mind. It was a network of quicksilver webs filled with possibilities that grew into calculations and strategies—his acumen the near equivalent of Vowrawn's.

Tersus weighed his words, refining them until they were efficient and cautious enough to begin the conversation his intellect demanded.

"My lord," he began. "May I speak freely?"

"I would prefer it."

"Thank you, my lord. The recording served to allay many of your concerns regarding Intelligence. It would seem Lord Vowrawn's interests still serve the Empire."

"So it would seem."

"That said, I would recommend an extensive security sweep of every location you frequent and thorough background checks of those who serve you. It's quite apparent that Lord Vowrawn has been monitoring you for some time, my lord."

"He's known me since I was a boy—and he does not rely on technology alone."

"A spy network?"

"A given—but more than that, he's an unparalleled ritualist. He's capable of summoning entities to ferret out information for him—many of these older than the Force itself. One of his first lessons to me was that technology could be defeated, but subverting a Force augur is quite another matter."

"Nothing exists that doesn't have a countermeasure."

"I never took you for an optimist, Tersus."

"More of a realist, my lord. The work demands it. The Sith have an abundance of esoteric wisdom. Surely something exists that would preserve your privacy, and perhaps employing similar means to monitor your peers would serve you as well."

By now, my anger had dissipated, but a weary foreboding persisted. "Spycraft—is not my forté."

Tersus's brows furrowed and his eyes became small and sharp. "But it is mine, my lord."

"I've noticed. In the short time you've headed Destab, the progress you've made has been nothing short of staggering."

Tersus bowed slightly. "Thank you, my lord. I've had the good fortune of assembling an efficient task force. The position has expanded my understanding of the ministry exponentially." He drew a deep breath and his icy gaze fixed squarely upon me.

"I sense there is something else on your mind."

"There is, but it's not my place. Inappropriate curiosity in my line of work can often lead to disaster."

The agent's terse observations amused me. "Hmph. Allow me to decide what's appropriate, Tersus. You wished to speak freely—do so."

"Very well, my lord. Your connection to the Jedi puzzles me. Lord Vowrawn spoke of Rylister's betrayal—by revealing your location to the SIS. That suggests to me that he was to join you on Zygerria, but to what point and purpose? I fail to see the connection. There is a common thread, but I fail to see what—or perhaps _who_ —you and the Jedi have in common to merit the necessity of an alliance."

I regarded the agent for a long moment and I sensed his disquiet. To confide in him would be a risk—one I could not bring myself to take. Revealing my connection to Liaseph would endanger her. Finding her fell to me alone—a task that grew more daunting with each passing day.

"You've proven yourself a valued resource, Tersus."

"Forgive me, my lord, I've overstepped."

"Continue monitoring the climate at Imperial Intelligence—if you learn anything else…"

"I won't hesitate to contact you, my lord. But if I may, there is one more thing—the Jedi. You said it was imperative he be found…and now that he has been, what is to become of him? He's a loose end and he betrayed you—a crime punishable by death."

"He lacks the answers I seek, but I will not take his life. Let the will of the Force decide his fate. I owe him nothing."

"Shall I monitor him? Lord Vowrawn and the hunter spoke of a bounty—and your reaction suggests that you were _not_ the one to set it—so who did? Not to mention Vowrawn's interest in the young man. It might be prudent to allow the situation to unfold and see what comes of it."

"Agreed. Many questions remain, but I'm no longer in a position to pursue this. The Emperor demands all-out war."

"I understand, my lord."

"Your assistance has been invaluable."

"Thank you, my lord. With your leave, I will monitor the situation and apprise you of any pertinent developments."

"Good. Dismissed."

"May the Force serve you in the battles ahead, my lord." Tersus bowed curtly and took his leave.

* * *

The _Erinyes_ raced through swirls of cobalt blue and the Imperial fleet followed in her wake as we sped through hyperspace toward Balmorra. My reflection stared back at me through the viewport, silent and judgmental.

Months, even years might pass before I could resume my search for Liaseph personally—but I knew not one day would pass, that I wouldn't think of her.

She had left a mark upon me, as vivid and indelible as if fate's own signature had been branded into my spirit. Duty demanded I forget her, love demanded I never let her go. The seeds of my own private war germinated within me and I summoned the resultant guilt and anguish into a weapon I could use to cleave open the enemies of the Empire. Every fallen world was a step closer to her.

My reflection remained unsatisfied and I turned my back to it.

"Admiral Ivernus, I trust the ground teams have completed their tasks?"

"Yes, my lord. They've reprogrammed the networked security systems of the factories, the laboratories, and the weaponry to turn against the inhabitants on your command."

"Do it—but keep the damage to the arms factory at a minimum. I want that facility."

"Understood, my lord." Ivernus tapped a string of encoded commands into the console and watched the incoming readouts as they blinked across the monitor. "The mutated colocoids have been released from Lab 352. They've eliminated the surrounding population within a twenty-kilometer radius with an eighty-five percent efficiency rating. The droids are responding to the virus and are coming back online to begin their assault on the Okara Droid factory."

"Good. Keep me apprised, Admiral."

Admiral Vilks approached and I sensed his trepidation—our disagreement and Ivernus's subsequent reassignment to the _Erinyes_ left Vilks on edge.

"My Lord, Darth Vengean and Darth Azamin are in position. The mine field has been installed, and they are prepared to herd the Republic ships into the trap."

"Excellent. And what of Sobrik's anti-aircraft guns?"

"They're offline for the time being. Darth Azamin's agent will see to it, the guns are reprogrammed to fire on all Republic vessels. Targets have been marked, including the med center."

"Leave the med center. The sick and injured are no threat and we may require the facilities for our own. Send an occupation force, in case there is any resistance inside."

"Yes, my lord."

"Dismissed. Captain Crenshaw, estimated time of arrival?"

"Two hours, fifty-three minutes."

"I'll be in my ready room."

* * *

I settled within my meditation chamber and focussed on the flaming brazier before me. The coals winked scarlet and amber and the roots of the flames paled to a white-gold. I gave myself to the Force and allowed my mind to travel where it would.

The flames formed into fleets and I watched the battle over Balmorra unfold. The fleet bombarded the surface of the planet and I noted any vulnerabilities in our formation and committed the revelations to memory. The vision soared over the world's surface—spanning the assault on Sobrik all the way to the laboratories in the northlands. I released the darkness, knowing it would spread fear and panic to the enemy troops as it glutted on their lifeforce.

The aerial bombardment would decimate the Traken-4 Chemworks and the resulting spillage and toxicity would drive the colocoids outward to the green poison lakes forming over the terrain.

Satisfied that the battle would unfold as I hoped, I allowed myself to slip into a deeper reverie—this one fuelled by the Forcetide.

I craved answers to the questions that plagued me and while there was nothing to be done about them on this plane, the simple knowing was enough. The vision resumed where it had left off, like a holovid in progress.

Liaseph stripped away the wet clothes clinging to her body and changed into a fresh nightgown. She caressed her forehead and the look in her eyes suggested she didn't remember how she came to be back at the apartment. She disposed of her clothing and spread Ravage's cloak before the hearth to dry.

He strode out of the bedroom, putting the finishing touches on a com he'd received. He clipped the device into his belt and yawned.

Liaseph's eyes widened and her mouth fell open, but she recovered quickly.

He fixed her in his gaze. "I missed you— _what_ are you doing?"

"I couldn't sleep…so I went to the roof. I didn't want to wake you to ask if I could—but it was raining…so I came back inside. Please don't be angry."

"Never do that again," he warned.

"I'm going mad…I need to be able to go outside. I need plants and trees—a garden. Something! It's boring here. I'm not some dim creature that can exist in a vacuum. I need _more_."

"Liaseph, I have no time to argue with you. I have urgent business at the Citadel." He tugged his boots on and rolled his cloak over his shoulders with an elegant flourish.

"You can't just leave!"

He pointed the unlit hilt of his lightsaber at her and narrowed his gaze. "You overstep," he admonished. "I can do precisely that and whether I return is my prerogative as well. _I_ am your lord and master, a fact _you_ would do well to remember."

"No. You're my jailor," she spat. "Can't you see what this is doing to me? I have nothing and no one here and I can't stand it. It's almost Life Day and I can't even decorate my _cell_ ," she threw her hands up and started to cry.

"It's hardly a _cell_ —you have every luxury. You do realize the Sith don't observe Life Day celebrations?"

"I'm _not_ Sith!"

"I don't have time for this." Ravage stormed out of the apartment. The sound of something shattering in his wake followed him into the hall.

Her sobs faded as the vision shifted to the inquisition chambers at the Citadel.

Vowrawn clasped his chin and toyed with one of the tendrils there as he considered the dozing Jedi pinned to the angled table. The corners of his lips curled into spirals and his eyes twinkled at the approaching footsteps. "Now that's an unexpected wrinkle," he said under his breath.

"Vowrawn…" Ravage grumbled.

"This—is a surprise."

"Don't play coy with me. I should've known _you_ would be the one behind this. You interfered with my hunter—that can only mean one thing. What do you want, Vowrawn?"

"Oh, nothing more than your expertise—perhaps you could turn your talent on him for me…and once I have what I need…then he's yours to do with as you please."

"It never occurs to you to simply ask—everything is a game to you, isn't it Vowrawn."

"Ah, but if I'd asked, you might say no. Or worse, I'd owe you a favour."

"Let's get on with this I haven't all day."

"I suspect this Jedi knows the identity of the individual who killed the Minister of Intelligence."

"And why would _you_ care?"

"Perhaps, I wish to retain their services," Vowrawn deadpanned. "In all seriousness, justice must be served and his killer cannot be allowed to walk free. Who knows _when_ they might strike again. And against _whom_ ," he said meaningfully.

"Law and justice is Mortis's sphere, not yours. This is _his_ problem."

"Do you see him standing here? No—and if you want this Jedi then you'll play along."

Ravage's mouth tightened and he held his index finger up in warning. "Fine. But mark my words Vowrawn, if this comes back to me—"

"It won't, I assure you," Vowrawn purred.

Ravage threw his cloak back over one shoulder and leaned in over the Jedi. "Hmph. A near-human. Miralukans are the worst—they believe themselves to be so _virtuous_."

Awakened by Ravage's voice, the Jedi struggled against his bonds and held his breath against the shocks that followed. "I don't _know_ anything. Even if I did, I wouldn't tell _you._ " Rylister spat, the spittle clinging to Ravage's cheek.

"Jedi filth," Ravage snarled. He removed a pocket square and wiped the spit away. "You _will_ suffer for this."

Ravage fixed his glare on the Jedi's forehead and bored into his mind.

Rylister gnashed his teeth and his body shuddered as he fought the white hot savagery tearing his mind apart.

"The name…now!" Ravage barked.

Blood spilled over Rylister's parched lips as he bit down to keep from speaking.

"Biting off your own tongue, will not keep me from knowing, Master _Rylister_. Yes, I know who you are. I've been looking for you."

The light shimmered behind Rylister's visor in an attempt to lock Ravage out. His fingers coiled into fists, his knuckles fading to a white-gold. Blood coated his teeth and he nearly choked on it as he growled.

Ravage sneered. "All too easy. The name of your assassin is SIS Agent Aruna Zane. Alien filth."

Vowrawn clapped his hands. "Wonderful. That gives my people something to go on."

"She's probably long gone. You have what you wanted, now leave us."

"A deal is after all a deal," Vowrawn conceded. "Pity. I would have enjoyed watching you work."

"You're trying my patience. Stay. Go. It makes no difference to what I plan on doing to this Jedi."

Vowrawn folded his arms and leaned against the counter. "Pretend…I am not here."

Ravage scowled and turned his interest back to the Jedi. "Tell me about Liaseph Teraan, of Alderaan. I want to know everything!"

Vowrawn's brows pinched together and his gaze shifted.

"I don't know anything about her," Rylister hissed.

"Lies! You love her—and she loves _you_. She told me. Don't try to deny it!"

"Y-you…know where she is?"

" _I_ ask the questions. Not _you_." Ravage snarled and unleashed a volley of lightning into Rylister's chest.

The Jedi's back arched and he cried out.

"Tell me about her family. _Now_."

"They're…they're dead—her father—her sister. Marr…killed them. Burned everything." Rylister's head drooped and gooey strings of blood hung from his lower lip.

"Marr! _Why_? Why would _he_ kill them?" Ravage released another volley of lightning. "Tell me why!"

"Can't you see the boy is unconscious?" Vowrawn strolled closer. "At this rate, you'll kill him and you won't learn a thing."

"This is none of your business."

"That's true, of course. But I do happen to have the answer to your question."

Ravage's eyes narrowed. "I'm listening."

"Marr killed them…because they were in league with the Organas."

Ravage's eyes widened as something occurred to him. "She…doesn't _know_ —she thinks they're still alive."

Vowrawn folded his arms over his chest and circled the table. "How is it that she's still alive, I wonder?"

"Her father sold her—or else she too would be dead," Ravage mused aloud.

Vowrawn tapped his index finger against his cheek. "And _why_ would he sell his own child?"

"Because of _him_." Ravage nodded at the unconscious Jedi.

"That _would_ make sense…the puzzle pieces do seem to fit." Vowrawn turned away. His mouth fell open as he shifted his gaze. He ran his hand over the lower half of his face. "And what will you do about the Jedi now?"

"What do you _think_ I'm going to do to him? Honestly, Vowrawn, the questions you ask…are positively inane at times."

"Then it's as I suspected…you plan to kill him." Vowrawn spun around to face Ravage. "But…consider this: What if you could break him and make him yours? The prestige of having a Miralukan apprentice—who else could make such a boast? You yourself said Miralukans are so contemptibly virtuous. They're a rarity. Others would regard you as a paragon of dark side mastery."

"You're suggesting that I make _him_ my apprentice?" Ravage's lip curled.

"You _are_ still in the market for one, are you not? But…bringing a Miraluka to the dark side is no small feat—perhaps even beyond your considerable ability, I'm afraid."

"He's a threat."

"Precisely. And what do we do with our greatest enemies?"

"We kill them."

"No, no. Besides that…"

"We keep them close," Ravage muttered.

Vowrawn's lip coiled up as he made for the door.

Ravage abandoned the Jedi's side to catch Vowrawn. "One more thing—"

"Mmm?"

Ravage sighed. "In what hell would I find Life Day decorations?"

"Life Day?" Vowrawn smirked. "I never took you for the sort to indulge in such festivities."

"I don't," Ravage scowled and shook his head. "Forget it."

Vowrawn plucked a card from inside his robes. "This florist traffics in rare items and frivolous contraband. Ask for Brin Ka'zaal and mention my name to get the best deals. I recommend his snow spheres—women can't resist them. And several dozen Malreaux roses wouldn't hurt either. Thank me later."

* * *

The com chimes drew me out of my reverie and to my astonishment the flames in the brazier had shriveled into a few dying embers.

"Go ahead."

Admiral Vilks cleared his throat and gulped. "Pardon the intrusion, my lord, but we're about to drop out of hyperspace. Admiral Ivernus informs me that the ground forces have begun their assault and vessels matching Republic signatures have been detected approaching Balmorra."

"Acknowledged."

The _Erinyes_ broke out of hyperspace and the Imperial fleet spilled in after it. I took my place on the bridge and appraised the quiet before the storm. Through the darkness, I sensed the terror soaking the landscape below, as well as the insectoid minds clamoring in pursuit of easy prey.

Mark VI Supremacy Class starfighters winged out of the bellies of the flanking Harrower-class dreadnoughts and moved into position.

Balmorra's orbital defense satellites hung lifeless about the world—a sign that the virus implanted into the planetary defense systems had disabled their shields and guns.

Republic ships emerged opposite our own and a swarm of Talon fighters roared out front to defend their fleet. Tangles of green and red bolts sizzled between the fighters.

The Mark VI's jetted forward to break apart the Talon swarm and herd them into the minefield. Republic anti-mine vessels moved in to decimate the field.

Myriad explosions lit up the Balmorran thermosphere as the Talons collided with the mines.

The defense satellites blinked as they came online and ion cannon fire erupted from the planet's surface to the Republic's position. The Republic corvette's shields blinked from the incoming fire and lurched from side to side upon impact.

A dozen of the Republic's low altitude infantry transports dropped below cloud cover.

"They're sending ground reinforcements. Deploy all AT-DP units."

Spying their capital ship rise over the horizon, I nodded.

"Fire at will."

((to be continued…))

A/N: I'd like to take a moment to thank you for reading, and to wish you all a very Merry Christmas or whichever holiday you hold most dear, and a joyous festive season. May you know good times with family and friends where ever you may be.


	30. Chapter 30

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Twenty-Nine~**

 _Pain welcomes distraction._

Twenty-nine hours after engaging the Republic fleet over Balmorra, the Empire emerged victorious. I ignored my body's demands for rest and perused the incoming reports.

What remained of the enemy fleet had retreated, their morale soundly beaten. When I could no longer focus on the text scrolling down the screen, I demanded visuals. I needed to see the outcome for myself.

Republic corpses littered the planet's surface. The cold water lakes and their black silt beaches ran red with blood. The occasional strangled cry rang out across the countryside—usually followed by the half-hearted discharge of a plasma rifle.

To the north, the Colocoids descended upon the dead in hordes. Those that weren't eaten on site, were dragged into caverns and liquefied to feed the young. The bugs served as an efficient sanitation corps, allowing our forces to focus on more vital pursuits.

Black smoke from the still burning wreckage of the Republic's battleships blotted out much of the sky. Balmorra's citizens teetered on the edge of sanity—they were a broken people and nothing short of a purpose would remedy their anguish.

Security details prowled the ruins. Those that had survived the siege were assigned to labor camps to dig trenches and erect barriers.

An occupation force led by Admiral Ivernus remained on Balmorra. Imperial delegations were to meet with the heads of all major industries, to ensure a smooth transition of power.

The holonet transmitted word of our victory across the galaxy, serving to bolster the Empire and demoralize those who would oppose us.

The fleet set a course for the Sesweena sector in the Outer Rim. To sustain the prolonged war the Emperor demanded, necessitated the seizure of resource rich systems in the sector.

Though I was satisfied with the outcome, Balmorra was but one step in a journey with no end in sight—but that was a concern for another day. My limbs had grown heavy and my mind swam with blurred visions and hallucinations.

A distant voice called to me—one I recognized but could not name at _this_ moment. A persistent shadow clasped my elbow as if trying to win my attention when I didn't answer. I dismissed it and initiated the shift rotation.

After turning control of the bridge over to Vice-Admiral Dendrose, I retreated to my quarters to sleep.

I attempted to mull over the events of the last several hours, but fatigue kept my thoughts from forming with any sort of coherence. My body twitched as if expecting an impact. I would wake and the process would begin again until I lost my way. Too tired to think or sleep, I lay in the darkness drifting.

My body finally surrendered and the Forcetide dreams revealed more of the otherwise unknowable events that defined my life.

 _Liaseph sat at her dressing table and stared vacantly into the mirror as the valet droid applied a collar of oval rubies knitted together in platenite. She wore her hair up, the elegant twist softened by defiant wisps coiling over her cheeks._

 _The droid painted her lips a red to match her gown and when it finished fussing over her cosmetics, it hovered back to its alcove and shut down for the night._

 _The silky tenor of a recently deceased tenor crooned in the background and the chrono had lost interest in keeping time. She sighed and rested her chin on interlocked fingers, her gaze downcast in the mirror's reflection._

 _Ravage appeared in the doorway and froze. He'd almost called out to her but swallowed his words in favor of admiring the way the light skimmed her shoulders. The pout drawing her lips only served to fuel his desire. He shifted his weight to alleviate the burgeoning thickness creasing his trousers._

 _The mirror betrayed his presence and she glanced upward. "You came back, did you?"_

 _His lip quirked up at the corner. "Did you miss me?"_

 _She dropped her gaze, but before she could respond, his hands warmed her shoulders and his breath tickled her ear. "I have a surprise for you."_

" _Are you going to unzip your trousers again?" She said sullenly and arched a brow._

" _Perhaps later—if you're lucky," he deadpanned._

 _She pursed her lips in an attempt to hide her amusement at his unexpected response._

" _I've given thought to what you said this morning—you're right."_

 _Her eyes met his in the mirror. "So—what does that mean? You're not giving me my freedom—are you?"_

" _Even if I did, you'd never be free of me." He bent to nuzzle the nape of her neck and his fingers played over her shoulders. "You're mine. You'll always be mine."_

 _Her breath caught and she held very still. "What's the surprise then?"_

 _Reluctantly, he pulled away and beckoned to her with an upturned hand. "Come, Liaseph."_

 _She accepted his invitation warily. "Where are we going?"_

" _I think the more apt question would be, where aren't we going?"_

 _He led her into the sitting room and swung a red fur-trimmed cloak about her shoulders and doted over the clasps as if she were a child._

" _Are we going to the roof? Is that it?"_

" _It wouldn't be a surprise, if I told you, now would it?"_

 _The night had cleared and both of Dromund Kaas's moons beamed bright and round over the city. A golden droid stood on alert outside the club and swung open the rear door to a convertible limousine when Ravage and Liaseph came into view._

" _After you…" He urged her inside and slid in next to her. The droid footman shut the door and saluted the chauffeur._

 _The limousine pulled away from the club and rose higher to sail above Kaas City. Invisible shielding kept the wind off them and the temperature constant._

 _Fat beams of gold and red light bowed to and fro over the city. Liaseph craned her neck to see. "What's going on at the Citadel?"_

 _Ravage leaned forward and muttered to the droid. "SH0-4 take us closer, so the lady can observe the celebration." As he reclined back into his seat, he wasted no time in slipping his arm around her._

 _The limousine arced closer to the shimmering obsidian tower. Below them, a crowd had gathered to watch the rare spectacle._

 _Rockets soared up over the citadel and burst into a profusion of red comets to form Imperial insignias._

 _Liaseph squealed and clapped with delight. "You said the Sith don't celebrate Life Day."_

" _We don't—but we're celebrating the conquest of Balmorra—our latest victory over the Republic."_

 _Twelve spheres, each one representing a member of the Dark Council burst across the sky. The blasts rang loud enough that Liaseph held her hands over her ears until she grew accustomed to the sound._

 _A blood-red globe representing the Sphere of Defense bloomed before them and cheers lifted from the crowd below at the mention of Darth Marr. She beamed at the mention of him and applauded eagerly._

 _Ravage drew her closer. "Here's mine," he whispered. A golden sphere burst like a nova before them, representing Expansion and Diplomacy. The cheers and applause faded and Ravage frowned._

" _It was beautiful—the best one so far, my lord."_

 _Spheres the colour of every jewel brightened the night and canons boomed as a tribute to those lost in combat._

" _Were any of your colleagues on the council hurt or killed?"_

" _Liaseph, it's—" Ravage began and then stopped._

" _What?"_

" _It's war." He took her hand and kissed it. "But no—only a few ground troops were lost. Marr still lives," he grumbled. "As does Azamin and Vengean."_

 _Her gaze wandered beyond the Citadel as if searching for something long gone._

" _What is it?"_

" _Nothing," she lied. "I'm just wondering what's so special about Balmorra?"_

" _The world has several key industries, vital to weapon and droid production. If the Empire is to thrive, it is imperative we control it—now watch—or you'll miss it," he pointed at the sky just above the tower._

 _Seemingly from nowhere, a star destroyer appeared over the Citadel. The vessel shone as bright as the planet's larger moon. Fireworks resembling falling stars shimmered over the vessel and were followed by a dozen twinkling Imperial insignias, each arm a comet reaching out to the night._

 _A squadron of starfighters soared past the citadel, dipping and diving to perform complex aerial acrobatics. Laser fire slashed the sky and the crowd cheered._

" _Will there be more? Please let there be more," she said beaming. The sky darkened and she pouted. "It's over already?"_

 _Ravage delighted in her expression. "Liaseph…"_

" _Yes, my lord?"_

 _Words failed him, but he reached out and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. A rosy flush stained her cheeks and his eyes blazed with a singular wanting intensity._

 _She caught herself losing the will to resist him and gazed into his eyes. They were blue, but they were the wrong blue—more like a storm than an ocean._

 _He pressed his mouth to hers, his lips urgent and demanding. She gasped and answered his kisses timidly before submitting to the moment. Her scent twinned about him, intoxicating and dangerous and yet something about her suggested she was holding back._

 _He broke their kiss, but held her face between his hands, his thumb playing over her earlobe. "Don't resist. You're breaking no vows."_

" _But you are," she blurted._

 _He pulled back and searched her eyes. "That bothers you…that I'm married."_

" _Yes, it bothers me."_

" _Why?"_

" _I feel sorry for her—and I feel guilty and ashamed."_

" _She knows—and she doesn't care. She has what she wants—and I have what I want. Trust me, when I tell you, she wouldn't think so benevolently about you."_

" _Who can blame her? How could anyone forgive me, when I can't forgive myself?"_

" _This isn't just about my wife is it?"_

 _Liaseph stared at him and swallowed._

" _That's what I thought. It's him. You still think you have a chance. You don't."_

 _Her lower lip quivered._

" _You're suffering because of him. You're not his priority. You were never his priority, nor will you ever be. I can make you forget him. It's in my power to do."_

" _If you did, you'd never know if what we have is real, or if it's because you made me forget."_

" _Listen to me. You're not his priority, but you are mine. You belong with me. If you were lost to me,_ _ **I**_ _would find you. Do you understand?"_

" _I-I understand."_

" _I don't think you do," he whispered and turned her face up to his. "I want you to give yourself to me."_

 _She averted her eyes. "You've already been with me…what else is there?"_

" _You're holding back—because of him, and I won't have it."_

" _I'll never be more than this."_

 _Ravage's expression grew solemn. "Do you want more?"_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _I think you know."_

" _No, I don't."_

" _She's my wife only in name—a name that could be yours. Say the word and the problem is solved."_

 _Her eyes flashed. "Stop it. You're not thinking clearly. You have children with her."_

" _My mind is my own, I assure you."_

 _She turned her attention to the landscape and looked up at the moons. The silence was suddenly thick between them and Ravage shifted to one side._

 _He summoned a drink server droid carrying two flutes of Alderaanian sparkle. "I ordered this especially for you," he announced, passing her a flute._

 _She accepted and watched the bubbles shiver up to the surface and break free._

 _He held his glass aloft. "Your innocence quickens me. To you, Liaseph."_

 _After clinking his flute against hers, he sipped the sparkle and smacked his lips._

 _She tasted the bubbly and a wan smile lifted her lips. "It's good, but I shouldn't drink—it affects me."_

" _That—is the entire point. Drink up, I bought twenty cases of it. I want to see you happy."_

" _You want to see me drunk," she murmured and shook her head. "So what now?"_

" _I've reserved the private dining hall at the Nexus Room. I told you I would take you there…"_

 _The limousine landed outside Kaas City's premiere cantina and the droid, SH0-4 opened the door._

 _Ravage emerged first and offered his arm. "Come."_

 _She accepted and strolled alongside him. Inside they were met by a bevy of fawning hosts who took her cloak; coloured lights and a Bith jazz quartet. Every eye followed them and Ravage basked in the attention and fed off the envy of the whispering patrons._

" _Shall we dance?" He breathed against her ear._

 _Liaseph giggled. "I thought you'd never ask."_

 _A beam of golden light followed them as they took to the dance floor. Ravage spun her against him and she glanced over her shoulder and rewarded him with a smoldering gaze before breaking into a fit of giggles._

 _He delighted in the sway of her hips against his and by the time the band finished the set, they'd gained an admiring audience, eager to share the floor._

" _Our table should be ready by now," Ravage called out over the din._

" _I hope so, I'm famished."_

 _He urged her into the elevator ahead of him, his hand hovering over the small of her back._

 _A sumptuous feast of Alderaanian nerf and several glasses of sparkle later, Ravage escorted her into the elevator. "Enjoying yourself?"_

" _Very much," she beamed._

" _How much? Show me."_

 _She drew him close and pressed a feathery kiss on the corner of his mouth. "How's that?"_

" _Chaste…considering what I want to do to you." He trapped her against the elevator wall and kissed her savagely, his hands roaming her body._

 _She broke their kiss and gasped. "Not here…people will talk."_

" _Let them, I'm on the Dark Council, their opinions don't matter one whit," he hissed and buried himself against her throat. Oblivious to their descent, his hands slid lower to her buttocks._

 _Several whistles and growing applause filtered into the elevator and he broke their kiss. He glared at the other patrons, his eyes fierce and his jaw slack._

 _Liaseph blushed and her eyes grew wide at the crowd flanking the carpet runner leading to the elevator._

 _A tall lithe man in a dark Imperial uniform leaned against the bar and scanned the crowd with a calculating icy gaze. He caught Liaseph's attention and held it for a moment. His lip twitched up slightly and he lifted his glass to salute her._

 _She blushed and averted her eyes, but curiosity incited her to seek him out again, but when she did, he'd vanished into the throng like a ghost._

" _There was a man…" She hesitated and glanced back at the bar._

" _Pay him no mind, Liaseph," Ravage hissed in her ear and collected her cloak from the coat check droid._

 _She dropped her gaze and kept her head down as he wrapped her up. Ravage cleared his throat and hastened her out to the limousine._

 _The shiny black vehicle rose higher to show the city's nightscape to full advantage. He curved his arm around her and she rested her head against his shoulder._

" _I had a good time…my lord."_

" _Liaseph…call me Phin."_

 _She peered up at him and smiled sheepishly. His eyes softened and studied her. "I want to hear you say it…"_

" _I had fun, Phin," she quipped._

 _He kissed the top of her head. "That's my girl."_

 _The limousine landed on the top floor of gentlemen's club. Liaseph straightened and glanced around, her eyes narrowing with sparkle induced uncertainty. "This isn't the right floor…is it?"_

" _As a matter of fact…it is. My last and I think best surprise…" He threw open the limousine door before the droid could._

 _Liaseph shifted across the seat after him and took his hand, rewarding him with an accidental flash of her legs as she got out._

" _I secured the penthouse for you…these gardens are yours now…you're free to come here as often as you wish—and should you desire to alter the plantings, the droids will assist."_

" _I can't believe it…"_

" _There's more." He snatched her hand and drew her inside quickly._

 _A three-meter tall tree graced the middle of the sitting room, tiny lights illuminating every branch like Saleucami fireflies. Several boxes of Life Day ornaments had been unpacked and set out and the deep heady fragrance of freshly cut Malreaux roses spilled out from the bedroom._

" _They're beautiful…" She lifted one of the fragile glass bulbs out of its tissue to admire it._

 _Ravage retrieved a parcel from the caf table and held it out to her. "It would please me if you accepted this. I know you hate material things, but I'd prefer it if you abstained from throwing this one."_

 _She collected the gift and glanced up at him. "It's heavy."_

 _He patted the cushion beside him. "You'll want to sit to open it."_

 _She settled in next to him and tugged apart the silken ribbon to open the gift. Nestled inside the kriin-wood box, lay a large snow sphere on a matching kriin-wood base. At the heart of the sphere, purple mountains hugged an ivory palace and emerald spruce trees jutted from the snow-dusted grass._

 _She gazed at it for a long time and tears filled her eyes._

 _Ravage folded his arms petulantly. "You hate it."_

" _No…I love it. It reminds me of home. I just can't help but remember the last time…" She gave the globe a shake and watched the storm she'd inflicted. "I miss…my sister."_

 _He studied her expression and his lips parted as though he wanted to speak, but decided against it. Instead, he took the orb from her hands and set it aside and drew her into his embrace._

" _Happy Life Day, Liaseph."_

 _She cupped his cheek and traced his implant with her thumb. "Happy conquest of Balmorra...Phin."_

 _He moistened his lips and looked at her warily, his expression almost vulnerable. "Liaseph…"_

 _She smiled impishly and straddled him. He gasped, surprised by her sudden boldness. "What are you doing?"_

" _This." She leaned in to whisper in his ear and a sly smirk creased the corners of his eyes._

" _This is a night of surprises…"_

 _((to be continued…))_

 _Happy New Year Everybody! ^^_


	31. Chapter 31

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Thirty~**

 _Through unity, victory._

Twelve men—three of them Sith sat before me in opposition. Despite our recent victories on the Outer Rim, I was fighting a losing battle. The men before me craved victory for the personal recognition it would bring—not for the betterment of the Empire.

Unity would bring victory and with it accolades enough for all—but I was surrounded by petty men who lacked the vision of what the Empire could be, if only self-interest could be weeded out.

I stood and took stock of every man before me. "An incursion on Bothawui is a fool's errand. The Republic must _not_ be underestimated. Our victories in the Seswenna sector have made you brash. Mark my words well, Azamin, Vengean—it will not end well for us if you persist on this course."

Azamin spread his hands. "They won't know what hit them, Marr. We'll bombard them from space. We won't even need to mount a ground assault. Darth Immern is quite capable, I promise you."

Immern nodded sagely. "We need to strike while their morale is low. No one believed we would ever get close enough to kill Joron Tal'vor, and we did. Their fearless hero—dead. They're crushed."

"And _that_ is when they're at their most dangerous," I snapped. "Do not discount the power of their sentiment. They draw strength from it.

"Bothawui is of great strategic importance to the Republic. I guarantee that the world is shielded and well protected. A covert task force must be deployed to scout the surface—to find their cloaked shield generator. Lull them into a false state of security. We must coordinate with the ground team. Then and only then, are we prepared to strike. With their generator and artillery offline, we begin the bombardment. Nothing less than a well-planned, well-timed full-scale invasion will do."

Vengean chuckled. "Scouting the surface? Lulling them? You are too cautious, Marr. We can finish them from above. Don't tell me you're concerned that your winning streak might finally be broken?"

"If you believe I keep a tally to boost my ego, you're mistaken. My sources inform me that Admiral Griek and the Republic Navy are no more than one sector away, lying in wait. It's a trap."

"But how do you know?" Darth Immern slapped the conference table. "You _can't_ be certain. They won't know we're coming."

"They already _know_. It's only logical that after taking the Outer Rim, our next goal would be to move inwards to the Mid Rim—and Bothawui is a prime target. We are being baited."

"Marr—with all due respect," Azamin began, "Your sphere is Defense of the Empire, Vengean's is Military Offense and mine is Military Strategy and he and I are in agreement. You are the odd man out, Marr."

"Spare me the rudimentary lesson of our Council's inner workings. My orders come from the Emperor himself."

Azamin shook his head. "Our Emperor is not a patient man, he wants casualties and devastation. He does _not_ want us to waste time traipsing about looking for shield generators that may or may not exist. What I propose is splitting the fleet—Immern takes Bothawui while the three of us and Grand Moff Zellos proceed to the Mid-Rim. You yourself said you wished to make fast work of this."

"Not at the expense of the Empire. You're sending Immern and his men to slaughter."

"Marr—how can you not see—you are outnumbered here. We will proceed according to the demands of our spheres. It's our duty—have some faith in young Immern. He's proven himself invaluable on many occasions."

"And yet you would condemn him to a pointless death. This is a mistake, a waste—one you can explain to our ultimate master—assuming any of you survive."

"Do as you will Marr, and we will do the same. Our campaigns are our own."

"You _will_ regret this."

"Is that a threat, Marr?"

"No. Merely a fact."

The com chimed demanding my attention and I deferred the call. With nothing further to say to my peers I left them and returned to my quarters. I glowered at the stars through my viewport. Not a half hour passed before the fleet splintered—weakening the whole because of utter stupidity and vainglory. I had failed. All that remained was to stay the course I had laid out and hope it would be enough to secure the Empire.

My fist tightened around the com and I remembered the deferred call. I was in no mood to speak to anyone, but there would be no peace until I did.

Hawk-eyed and shrewd, Tersus's image rose from the device. He bowed his head and clasped his hands behind his back to assume the rigid posture I had grown accustomed to seeing.

"Tersus, report."

"My lord. Pardon the interruption earlier. If this is a bad time, the briefing can wait."

"No. Proceed."

"Firstly, it would appear the Dread Masters have succeeded in their objectives. Reports indicate the Republic is baffled by the loss of entire fleets and outposts and will be investigating the cause of these 'bursts of terror', as they described."

"I see. At least something is proceeding according to plan. What else?"

"Vowrawn continues to acquire and merge various gangs of criminals and their assets into one unit. He's acquired properties across the Republic and Core worlds. I suspect they're safe houses. He has created a guise of legitimacy, so that they may operate with impunity on his behalf. I must say he has my respect—herding and controlling these unruly degenerates is no mean feat."

"Perhaps the Emperor should have asked _him_ to shepherd this task force," I grumbled. "Are these machinations of Vowrawn's bearing fruit for the Empire, or is this a selfish attempt to line his own pockets?"

"From all I've seen, he's used the resources seized by his various pirate guilds to embellish the Empire—at reduced costs. He's building quite the crime syndicate. If my estimations are correct, he controls better than half of the galaxy's underworld operations—exceeding that of even the Hutts. I daresay they should worry—as should he. The Hutts can be formidable adversaries and I doubt they will allow this to stand uncontested."

"I see. So it appears that he is, in fact, working within the confines of his sphere."

"Yes, my lord, but he is one to watch."

"Agreed. And the climate at Intelligence?"

"Intelligence remains on high alert. I received word that an SIS agent—Torin Zane—was spotted in Kaas City no more than a day ago, no doubt to extract their assassin."

"And what of the Jedi?"

"It would appear Darth Ravage has taken custody of him. Given that he is no longer at detention or interrogation, I suspect he's been moved to one of Ravage's own facilities."

I clasped my forehead and sighed. Remnants of the Forcetide's latest revelations swam in my mind like debris in deep water. Ravage and Vowrawn huddled over the unconscious Jedi in an unsettling duologue that gave rise to an implacable anxiety I couldn't set aside.

Nausea burned the back of my throat and my sight blurred. Was it be possible that the visions and dreams were finally moving closer to coincide with reality? Each world existed independently and I sensed an impending merge of the known and unknown through a violent ripple in the Force.

"My lord?" Tersus pressed. "Are you unwell?"

The agent's voice dispersed the sensation and clarity returned. "No. Is there anything further?"

"I've assigned one of my best and brightest to monitor Darth Ravage."

"Who?"

"The name's Pallaron. Interestingly enough, he graduated in my year. He shows great promise as an infiltrator specializing in deep cover." Tersus grinned in a rare candid moment. "But a word of caution—never play sabacc with him. He's a proficient card counter. No one can tell."

I chuckled. "Don't tell Vowrawn."

Tersus smirked. "Understood, my lord. That concludes my report. Is there anything further you require?"

"No, continue monitoring. However, my next operation demands radio silence—I'll be in touch when my mission concludes. It could be several weeks, perhaps months before we speak again."

"Understood," Tersus said with a bow.

"Marr out."

The image winked out and I considered the console for a moment before contacting the Vice Admiral. "Dendrose—maintain course to the Sluis sector, but do not initiate hyperspace."

"Acknowledged, my lord."

The Sluis sector, known for several key outposts and shipyards would prove ideal to service the Empire in this region of space. We would arrive in under a day at the current rate—time enough to rest and meditate on the battle ahead— and time enough for the Forcetide to impart its truths.

I settled into my quarters for the night and fell into an easy but shallow sleep.

* * *

 _Liaseph brewed a cup of Cassius tea and settled in to watch the holonet news._

'… _This is the Imperial News Network with breaking news emerging this hour from the Bothan Sector. Reports indicate an Imperial incursion on the planet Bothawui in the Mid Rim was met with massive Republic resistance, resulting in the decimation of the Imperial fleet and a tragic loss of lives numbering in the thousands, including the death of the Sith lord leading the incursion._

' _Darth Marr recently conquered Balmorra and several sectors in the outer rim in the Seswenna sector. He is known by all as the Empire's stalwart defender. More as it becomes available. This is Quel Na'rip of the Imperial News Network.'_

 _Liaseph clapped her hand over her mouth and tears welled in her eyes. She sprang out of her chair, her breaths coming in rapid panting sobs._

 _She faltered and caught the table. The double doors leading to the garden seemed a galaxy away. Mindlessly she navigated the room, gripping a chair, then the chesterfield, a table, until she found herself outside._

 _Her clothing and hair shivered in the humid wind. She clung to the thick half wall that served as the balcony's railing and sobbed into her hands. Crops of goose pimples sprang up over her arms and she slumped to her knees, her cheek against the stone wall._

 _A cool drizzle began and thickened enough to turn her pale blue gown dark. She scrambled to her feet and peered over the edge of the wall._

 _The citizens below appeared no larger than ants as they hustled to get inside out of the rain. A slow sad smile spread over her lips. She pressed her hand over her mouth and shut her eyes. Tears mingled with the rain until it was impossible to tell them apart._

 _She drew a deep breath and peeled off her shoes. She scampered onto the wall and teetered in a crouch until she found the nerve to stand. Her face throbbed and the city became a bright gray blur. The wind whipped around her and she spread her arms to it. She wavered on the edge and buried her face in her hands._

 _The stone ledge was rough and cold under her feet, but she inched closer to the edge until she could curl her toes over it._

 _The streets below had cleared save for the odd taxi speeder zooming past. She closed her eyes and tipped forward, the motion as smooth as fainting. Her heartbeat boomed in her ears._

 _Rocket boosters roared before her as something large, dark and powerful collided with her, pushing her back onto the wet balcony floor._

" _Gotcha!" The handsome blond Imperial clutched her to his chest and held her. He pawed her hair and she wept into the crook of his shoulder._

" _Why? Why did you do that?" She sniffled._

" _Hey…whatever it is darling, it can't be that bad," he drawled._

 _Her sobs grew louder and more insistent._

" _Okay, I guess it can."_

 _She pulled away and stared up at him. Her brows pinched miserably. "You—I remember you. You were at the bar—at the Nexus and then you weren't."_

" _I'm flattered that you remember."_

 _She pummelled his shoulders. "Get off me and go away!"_

" _Not until I'm positive you're not going to take another flying leap. Promise me."_

" _No."_

" _Let's talk about this…"_

" _Don't you get it? There's nothing to talk about. My life is over."_

" _That's a pretty radical shift from the girl who outshone every light in the Nexus a month ago."_

 _He levered himself off her and pulled her up with him. "Let's get you inside where it's warmer."_

" _No."_

" _Then will you at least let me offer you my jacket, you must be freezing." He shrugged out of his coat and set it over her shoulders. "And another thing…let's do something about this." He pulled a pocket square from his uniform's breast pocket and dabbed her eyes before surrendering it to her. "Better?"_

" _No. Whoever you are…you can't fix this!"_

" _Call me Damars. Damars Pallaron. I told you mine, now you tell me yours."_

" _Liaseph."_

" _A name as enchanting as the woman it belongs to." He ushered her over to the garden bench and sat her down. He crouched before her and tipped her chin up. "Now…are you going to tell me what happened or am I guessing?"_

" _I don't know you. Why are you here? How did you even get up here?"_

" _Okay…you want answers. How about these—you don't know me…but you will…I'm here to tell you your cliff hawk impersonation needs work, and these," he tapped his rocket boots, "Standard Intelligence issue."_

" _You're a spy." She narrowed her eyes. "Were you spying on me?"_

" _Not intentionally." He flashed a smile. "Your go."_

" _I'm not in the mood for these games," she blew her nose._

" _So what made you ready to end it all?"_

" _The man I love is…dead."_

" _I'm pretty sure I saw him at the Citadel earlier—but to get so upset…you're a true patriot. Interesting, seeing as you're not an Imperial."_

" _What?" She grimaced. "And how did you know that?"_

" _The accent—I'm going to guess you're a particularly lovely species of Alderaanian snob."_

" _Leave me alone."_

" _I can see this isn't going to be any fun until we clear something up. Now, what makes you think Darth Ravage is dead?"_

 _She stared at him with the same incredulity as if he'd slapped her in the face._

" _Was it on the holonet?"_

 _She nodded in a brusque staccato._

" _I see." He pulled a pad from the reticule attached to his belt. "Playback all breaking news from the last hour."_

 _Quel Na'rip's voice squeaked from the datapad as the clip replayed._

 _Damars shook his head. "Should've known—sweeps week. They're trying to up their viewership—but this report said Darth Marr," he murmured, eyes narrowing. "Is that who you meant?"_

 _She said nothing, but the quiver of her lower lip spoke volumes._

" _Let's put this rumor to bed, shall we? What's Darth Marr's current status?"_

 _A miniature holo image rose up from the pad and rotated while the status updated. "Processing…Darth Marr is currently…alive."_

" _He's alive?" She peered up at Damars and searched his green eyes._

" _Looks like. Spies get the best toys, don't you think?"_

 _She pressed her hand to her chest to calm her breathing. "You're sure? He's really alive?"_

" _Yes darling, alive and kicking."_

" _Can you get a message to him? Please?"_

" _It'll cost you."_

 _Her shoulders slumped. "I don't have any money—but I have jewelry. Lots of it."_

" _It's all wrong for my image. I was thinking something simpler and more personal."_

 _She narrowed her eyes. "Like what?"_

" _Like this…" Recklessly, he leaned in and stole not one, but three kisses, each one lingering longer than the last. He drew back slowly. "Your lips taste like a wild Tatooine desert blossom…I can only imagine what the rest must be like."_

" _Please tell him where I am."_

 _Damars frowned at the reflection on his datapad. "I don't have his com frequency—but I know someone who would. Tell you what darling, why don't we go inside…get to know each other better and maybe, just maybe, I'll take you to him personally."_

 _She stared into his eyes for a long time. The flicker of temptation swelled in her, and then it was gone. "How dare you!" She slapped him hard enough to turn his face. "Just because I live here doesn't mean I'm what you think."_

 _The double doors to the roof swung open and Liaseph leapt to her feet, leaving the agent's coat behind on the bench. She dashed toward Ravage and pointed an accusing finger at Damars and sniffed. "Make him leave."_

 _Ravage met her half way. "Did he hurt you?"_

" _No."_

" _Go inside now, I'll deal with him." Ravage gestured toward the door._

 _She skulked back inside and peered out at the two men._

" _Darth Ravage," Damars bowed._

 _Ravage crossed his arms. "Well? What did you learn?"_

" _Good news…and bad news."_

" _Explain."_

" _The good news—she slapped me when I propositioned her…I made her an offer I didn't think she'd refuse."_

" _Truly? She denied…you?"_

 _Damars preened. "Surprising, I know."_

" _And the bad?"_

" _She asked me to relay a message."_

" _To who? She doesn't know anyone in Kaas."_

" _Darth Marr."_

" _Marr?" Ravage glowered. "What for? What was the message?"_

" _She wanted him to know where she is, my lord."_

" _Why the hell would he care where—"_

" _She implied that she loves him, my lord."_

 _Ravage's face flared red as a look of dawning struck him. "You are not to relay any such message. Understood?"_

" _That goes without saying, my lord. I'm yours to command." Damars set his hand over his heart and bowed._

 _Ravage's glare fixed on the ground in front of the agent. "Those rocket boots…are they still functional?"_

" _Yes, my lord."_

" _Good. Then show yourself out!" With a backhanded gesture, he Force flung the agent off the roof. Damars yelped and the sound of boosters followed._

 _Ravage remained rooted in place for several moments, his back to the penthouse doors. His hands balled into fists and his chest rose and fell in fast shallow breaths._

 _He turned on his heel and stalked inside, his cloak billowing behind him._

 _Liaseph held herself in the sitting room, her wet gown, and hair clinging to her. Her body tremored inside and her gaze remained riveted on Ravage._

" _He's been dealt with," he muttered._

 _Liaseph nodded, not daring to speak. She swallowed as he approached her. He took her arms and rubbed the chill from them._

" _You won't be seeing him again."_

" _He scared me," she managed._

" _No need to fear him." He urged her back against the corner wall and leaned in to nuzzle her throat._

 _She stood motionless before him. He drew back and glared at her, his eyes blazing. He kneaded her upper arms and without warning he turned her around, pinning her against the corner wall with his body. She heard him unfasten his trouser bindings. Her cheek flattened against the cool smooth edge of the wall as he pressed against her._

 _He snatched the damp hem of her gown, bunching it over her hip. With his free hand, he tugged away the scant lace panties she wore. She remained still and felt his weight against her back as he bent her forward and splayed her apart._

 _She shut her eyes as he freed himself and entered her. He drove into her over and over, their bodies awkward and misaligned. Minutes later he shuddered and growled with his release._

 _He held her body against his, idly skimming the side swell of her breast. He nuzzled her throat, his breath hot against her ear. He studied her profile and his eyes hardened._

" _Marr—killed your family," he whispered and backed away._

 _She clung to the wall and stared vacantly at the holonet still broadcasting in the other room. The door to the penthouse slammed shut loud enough, that it vibrated the walls._

" _This has been Imperial Network News, Quel Na'rip reporting."_

 _((to be continued…))_


	32. Chapter 32

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Thirty-One~**

 _Man does not change war, it is war that changes man._

 _War speaks to the nobility in men. It demands our devotion even as the divide between our best and worst grows convoluted._

 _We lurk in the graying silence and the truth becomes a heavier burden, more difficult to ignore—we fight to keep what is ours, but war takes it away, win or lose. There is wisdom in silence but it becomes lost in the noise of war._

 _We must find it again._

* * *

Twenty-seven days after the disastrous first incursion upon Bothawui, Grand Moff Zellos returned to the mid rim world with massive reinforcements. The loss weighed on Zellos and his wounded pride would not allow him to accept defeat. Obsessed with the conquest of Bothawui, he rallied those loyal to him and they came in force.

He brought his fleet and he brought an army, fifty thousand men strong.

Imperial fury rained down upon the world. Zellos raged against Jedi master and commander, Belth Allusis; eighty-four knights; four thousand men; and the bane of both battles—the planetary shield generator and the shield encapsulating Bothawui.

Emboldened by their first victory in an age, the Republic believed that Zellos wouldn't dare return after Darth Immerns defeat.

Most of the Republic Fleet departed after the first battle and had taken the majority of its Jedi force with it. They had assumed Zellos had cut his losses. They were wrong.

Zellos returned and took Bothawui, but at the cost of his fleet and forty thousand men. Those that remained were too broken and weak to maintain their hold on the planet against the forces sent to repel them.

History would remember the second battle of Bothawui as a draw—a far more generous outcome than I would have given.

It was a battle Zellos should've won, but instead, it serves as a monument to his incompetence—exceeding even that of the late Darth Immern.

Grand Moff Zellos is not long for this world. The Emperor's focus follows him like a starving Nekarr cat follows a rodent; and like the cat, our Emperor will toy with him before ultimately finishing him.

Word of Master Allusis's death and the deaths of his men spread through the galaxy like a nova. The knowledge that so few could hold such a force at bay, re-invigorated a Republic we had all but crushed. Despite their deaths, Allusis, and his men had mended the Republic's tattered morale and would live on as heroes of the Republic.

The war had turned and not in our favor. The battle for Bothawui was a humiliation the Empire could have avoided.

Bothawui was a waste, but perhaps it was required to temper arrogance into wisdom. The Emperor himself would need to reconsider his strategy, but until such time, there was work to be done. The Imperial war machine stopped for no one—the work, as always, would continue and I would see it realized.

* * *

Days grew into weeks and then months. Worlds ceased to have names; they became coordinates, ordered by the priority of the resources marked for seizure. Our victories were many, but they were quiet and enduring.

There was no time to dream. All that was once dear seemed no more than a pleasant fiction. Remembering was a luxury. There is no luxury in war.

We moved with the predatory grace of a Firaxan shark, the galaxy our ocean. Glutted with resources and dominion over many new worlds, we recovered what had been lost and had expanded the Empire's reach.

Onward we pushed until the day came when we set aside our mantle as conquerors to become defenders once more.

* * *

Admiral Vilks approached but didn't dare to ascend to the uppermost tier of the bridge I favored.

I sensed his eyes on my back and the tremor in his hands. "My lord, we're detecting an encoded Imperial signal—it sounds like a distress call. Permission to boost our subspace transceivers?"

"Granted."

I kept my back to the crew as I listened to the boosted and decoded message crackling across the bridge.

"This is Darth Vengean to any Imperial vessel…do you read? We require reinforcements at the following coordinates. We are outnumbered and outgunned. Any Imperial vessel—respond. The is an emergency, we won't last much longer."

Allowing Vengean to fall was a temptation I considered indulging. I owed him nothing. He had attained his position through inheritance rather than distinguished service or prowess and his campaigns hindered more than they served. Azamin was little better.

"My lord, shall I respond?" Vilks urged. "My lord?"

"No. Send no response."

"My lord—with all due—"

"Enough. Reinstate silence. Do it now."

"Yes, my lord." Vilks bowed.

"Set a course for Peltos V—these co-ordinates."

"My lord, that will put us _behind_ the planet—Vengean's fleet is on the other side."

"Precisely."

The _Erinyes_ emerged from hyperspace and stopped just short of Peltos V. Recent geological surveys revealed the world contained an abundance of concentrated Baradium Bisulfate deposits—a highly combustible substance useful in demolitions and the manufacture of thermal detonators. One gram would vaporize twelve city blocks—a few kilograms could destroy a moon. Further scans revealed a smattering of mining camps near the larger nodes.

The remainder of the fleet materialized but a moment later. The _Erinyes_ , and the armada that followed rose against the backdrop of the morning sun—each ship's silhouette, a dark arrowhead corrupting the yellow dwarf's golden face.

Over the horizon, the battle unfolded before us and I knew we would soon be in range of the Republic's sensors. I hoped to postpone their discovery of us, for as long as possible.

Balls of flame bloomed before us as the Republic pushed hard against the remains of Vengean and Azamin's fleet.

A Mark VI starfighter skittered out of control, colliding against the hull of the Republic Valor-class cruiser dominating the fight.

Packs of Talon starfighters hounded an isolated Fury-class interceptor engulfed in black smoke, the last of its life winking out with its thrusters.

Vengean's flagship, the _Salaminia_ , shuddered under the attack of not one, but two Hammerhead Corvettes hanging abeam, their battering intentionally out of sync, to keep the _Salaminia_ from regaining enough stability to make an emergency jump to hyperspeed. The battleship's nose dropped thirty degrees, increasing the danger of losing attitude control.

"Extend frontal shields to the _Salaminia_ and fire at will on those Hammerheads."

"My lord—even with our reinforcement, they're vastly outnumbered," Vilks protested.

"Numbers do not decide a battle, Admiral. Question me again and I will have your tongue. Fire!"

"Yes, my lord. Shield extended—commencing bombardment of starboard vessel. The _Zephyrus_ is coming about—and has opened fire on the port side corvette."

The Hammerhead off the _Salaminia_ 's starboard side shuddered under each volley until it cracked in half, both sections driven by ribbons of flame as they plummeted toward the planet's thermosphere.

The impact pushed the _Salaminia_ laterally into the portside Corvette, the collision locking the two ships together. The republic vessel attempted to reverse in vain, like a jagulor with its head trapped between the bars of its cage.

"Vilks, reinstate full communications."

"Yes, my lord."

"Captain Firston, come about and focus fire on the remaining corvette. Decimate it!"

"Yes my lord," the Captain's voice crackled over the com.

A blue-gold ball of flame consumed the corvette.

"Direct hit!" Firston whooped.

"My Lord, Darth Azamin's ship…" Vilks began. "That Valor-class has turned its sights on the _Paralos_. We're out of weapons range."

"Move us in five thousand kilometers. Focus all deflectors at its fuel cells…at this frequency—fire in ten-second bursts, fifteen seconds apart. Three bursts ought to suffice."

"Firing first burst…no effect…"

"Patience, Admiral."

The second burst followed, with seemingly no effect and the crew held their breath.

"Third burst…firing now."

The Valor-class cruiser appeared to be coming about, its heavy cannons swiveling toward us.

"My lord?" Vilks pressed.

"Inform Azamin and the rest of the fleet to back off. _Now_."

"Transmission sent…and acknowledged."

No sooner had the _Paralos_ reversed, the cruiser's engines cut out.

"Shields up. Brace for impact!"

The viewport flashed gold and the _Erinyes_ shuddered against the impact of the blast ring growing exponentially from the cruiser's final coordinates. Debris pummelled the hull like hail as we rode the wave of the explosion. The energy wave dissipated and the fleet struggled to regain control.

Vilks frowned. "My lord, sensors indicate several Republic vessels emerging out of hyperspace over Peltos."

"Inform the rest of the fleet to evacuate Peltos space and rendezvous at Dromund Kaas. Do it _now_."

"Transmission sent and acknowledged."

The fleet roared into hyperspace, leaving the _Erinyes_ alone in the face of the enemy fleet and its incoming reinforcements. Every Republic vessel came about to face us like a reflection, cannons rotating as they locked on our position.

Anxiety spread over the bridge like a fog and several of the men exchanged worried glances, their knuckles white as they executed their tasks. The hyperdrive's warning indicator blinked red.

"My lord—something appears to be wrong with the hyperdrive motivator. There's a malfunction. We _can't_ leave."

I nodded and after considering the readouts, I drew a deep breath.

"My Lord, the Republic commander is ordering us to stand down. They're giving us thirty seconds to respond with our surrender."

I laughed—and the crew erupted in low anxious snickers. Perspiration darkened their uniforms and the Force shimmered with their racing heartbeats and dark laughter. Fear ruled them and they had resigned themselves to the end.

 _For the Empire._

The Republic fleet commander's signal broke through on another frequency. "This is Commodore Elmin Lansing of the Republic fleet. Your allies have deserted you, Sith. Stand down, or be destroyed."

The enemy fleet hung in a massive swarm before us and I sensed their jubilation. The fact that they felt the compulsion to threaten _one_ ship only fed my amusement.

I made a slashing gesture across my throat and Lansing was cut off.

Time did not permit the luxury of a diagnostic of the hyperdrive motivator. Without it, we would perish. I drew a deep breath and reached out with the Force. The motivator remained intact, but the relay connecting it to the nav computer's automated system had shorted. I completed the calculations for hyperspeed and input them manually. My hands hovered over the controls.

"My lord—we've lost our shields," Lieutenant Kayle announced. "And he's hailing us again."

I turned my back to Kayle. "Admiral, scan the surface for the largest Baradium Bisulfate deposit."

"Yes, my lord." Sweat trickled from Vilks' temples to his cheeks and his voice quavered when he spoke. "S-scan complete, my lord." He swallowed. "The largest deposit spans the northern hemisphere."

"Target all weapons on the deposit."

"Weapons targeted."

"Fire!"

Peltos' northern hemisphere flashed white—but it didn't end there—it spread to the south, turning the sphere into a blinding ball of light that transcended the colour spectrum into a ghostly transparency that burned hotter than the core of any blue star.

The explosion triggered a chain reaction across the world through the veins that ran to its core, and for a moment it's presence lingered in the Force, manifesting as a ball of stony crumbs before flying apart. The light grew and vaporized the Republic fleets. Unable to outrun the vast explosion, swarms of fighters shot ahead, only to be consumed.

I slammed the com and the _Erinyes_ bolted into the comforting darkness. The light seemed to pursue us, even into hyperspace. Uncertain if it was truly there, or if the explosion had damaged our sensors, I reached out with the Force. The magnitude of the explosion was such, that a fraction of it had entered hyperspace with us.

The light continued burning through the blue swirls of hyperspace. Even if our shields were functional, they would not be enough to withstand the boiling heat, and without them, we would not survive.

The darkness had been silent as if it had recognized the sleeping power encrusted within Peltos V. I summoned it and like a frightened animal it peered out at me from across the ether. The black fog rose about me like smoke and continued beyond the confines of the _Erinyes._ It coiled about the ship like a massive constrictor and the interior of the ship darkened, except for the light thrown from the control panels.

We hurtled through hyperspace, sensors damaged, no shields and no true means aside from the Force to know where in the galaxy we were.

I reached beyond the darkness and as the end goal registered I disengaged the hyperdrive manually, to coast beyond the tunnel. The stream closed behind us, swallowing what remained of the pursuing light.

The Dromund system lay before us, the familiar violet sun beaming over its children. The crew exhaled collectively, their shoulders slumping as they threw themselves into the backrests of their chairs to relax. Eleven months had passed since we'd left.

I turned to face the crew and clasped my hands behind my back. "Admiral Vilks…"

"Y-yes my lord?"

"Take us home. We're overdue for leave."

((to be continued…))


	33. Chapter 33

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Thirty-Two~**

 _Love fuels the deepest hatred._

Thousands lined the thoroughfare between the market square and the citadel. Our military bands led the way, their instruments jubilant with the traditional march that defined us and served as a proclamation of the Empire's victories.

 _My victories._

Legions of our forces dressed in full dress uniform marched alongside the open-air barge carrying us toward the citadel. Every building wore the scarlet tabard of the Sith Empire. Banners fluttered above us and before us and multicolored ribbons of ticker tape and confetti poured from the sky like rain.

The breeze carried the aroma of the sugared muja fruit and roasted warra nuts the street vendors sold. Children clamored for the floating replicas of destroyers and starships to drag along behind them as they ran alongside the parade barrier.

Their laughter and unbridled elation tugged at my conscience. So many would never know moments like these. My gaze settled on a dark haired toddler, his face radiant as he clutched his model Terminus to his chest. He was the right age—and I thought on what might have been. My hand closed involuntarily as if doing so would preserve the idea, but like so much else, it slipped away and distraction ruled the moment again.

Holocams hovered past the crowds recording every step of the parade for the purposes of both security and broadcast over the holonet.

Red and black inflatables floated into the sky while the thunderous march of walkers announced our might with every booming step.

Vowrawn, clad in flamboyant scarlet finery, sat to my right, his arm hoisted high and swaying in a perpetual closed-fingered wave. His teeth gleamed in sharp contrast to his crimson flesh and with his ruby red eyes, he reminded me of an Opee Sea Killer—on too much caf.

Without missing a beat of his wave, he leaned against me. "Why so sullen, old friend?"

"Sullen?" I snorted, feigning a better mood than I was in. "How can you tell?"

"Precisely! And if _I_ can't tell, neither can _they_ ," he prattled cheerfully as he indicated the crowd with a sweeping arm. "You need to be more expressive—it's a parade! All of this is for _you_ , to mark the occasion of your triumphant return. Why not give the people what they came for?"

"And what would that be exactly?"

"Why _you_ , of course."

"Surely this…this spectacle is enough?"

"You're their _defender_. This is _your_ moment. Make the most of it."

"I would never have agreed to this farce had I known."

Vowrawn beamed. "Trust me, old friend, I'm well aware. I do hope you'll overlook the fib—after all, it's not _entirely_ untrue, you _are_ needed at the citadel. Just be grateful about the monument…" He muttered the last in a rapid string under his breath.

" _What_ monument?" My saber hand opened and closed reflexively.

"Oh do calm down. I haven't commissioned it— _yet_."

"Nor will you."

"You're far too serious, old friend. Live a little—enjoy the spoils. This day…is a day of celebration," he spread his hands as he spoke, "Who knows what surprises await."

"At what point over the years, did I give the impression that I enjoy surprises?"

"Humor me—think of it as a much-needed boost to the Empire's flagging morale. Imagine their glee—to be acknowledged by their great defender. They'll be positively giddy, I assure you. Give them what they want." He elbowed me and his smile grew wider than that of a used speeder salesman.

"Fine. If it means you'll stop gawping at me like a madman."

"That's the spirit, my friend."

I stood and raised my arms high to incite the crowd. I wasn't prepared for what happened next. The masses erupted and their cheers drowned out the bands and even the walkers. My name surged from a roar to a deafening chant and I understood why some men sought adulation—it was a narcotic—capable of dimming the senses until all that mattered was the approval of the throng and what provocation would inspire it again when it faded.

The Force swelled and rolled through Kaas City and I realized a more insidious danger—those with power over the masses ruled the world and courted the envy of both lesser and more powerful men. My place was on the battlefield, not on our Emperor's throne. I indulged the crowd once more and then reclaimed my seat.

Vowrawn jabbed my side. "Now tell me—was _that_ so terrible? I think a monument would be well received."

"No monument."

"Pity. Perhaps if you saw the location I'd secured—"

"I said, _no_."

"Not even in the jungle?"

"Vowrawn..." I growled in warning.

He held up his hands in surrender. "Message heard loud and clear, my friend. Still a shame to waste such a glorious location…"

"Then build one for yourself."

I had no idea what he planned, but I could practically hear the gears in his mind grinding with possibility. I shot a final glare in his direction to be certain he understood me.

Two hours later we arrived at the Citadel. The Imperial Orchestra and Chorus lined the scarlet runner leading inside and when Vowrawn and I descended from the barge, they heralded our arrival with the traditional ancient march of the Sith. Legions of our finest troopers performed choreographed precision drill sequences with dizzying speed.

As we passed, the braziers flanking the courtyard blazed to life and a great pyre served as the primary focal point—the only details missing were the victim and the flames.

"Splendid." Vowrawn clapped his hands together and beamed. "Truly remarkable isn't it?"

"Indeed. So, who's the guest of honor?" I deadpanned.

Vowrawn chortled and I found his glee almost unsettling.

My gaze was drawn beyond the waiting pyre to those gathered inside—predominantly Azamin and Vengean huddled together with their respective power bases and the rest of the Dark Council—including Ravage.

Each member emerged with a lit torchiere as their names were announced and each took their place around the pyre.

Vengean approached me and passed a lit torchiere to me and acknowledged me with a subtle nod. Azamin bowed slightly and took his place next to Vengean. Ravage glared at me with the thinly veiled contempt I had come to expect from him.

A half dozen of the Emperors scarlet-robed personal guard emerged next with an Imperial proclamation bearer between them.

Vowrawn met the bearer and claimed the scroll from the cushion and unfurled it.

"Respected members of the Dark Council and good citizens of the Empire—as the Grand Marshall of today's proceedings, I welcome you all. We gather here today to honor the heroism of one of our own—for serving the Empire with distinction. Darth Marr, step forward if you would."

I broke the line and stood before Vowrawn, the bearer, and the Imperial guards.

"The Emperor presents these tokens of his esteem for your exemplary service and prowess in the heat of battle—the Order of the Emperor and the Emperor's Glory, with the rank and privilege attributed to each."

The bearer approached and affixed a row of glimmering aurodium medals to my chest.

Vowrawn waited until the polite applause fell away before continuing. "And in recognition of the _Erinyes_ and her valiant crew,the Emperor has bestowed the Valor Under Fire Citation. Congratulations Darth Marr and do convey our Emperor's respects to your brave crew."

The bearer returned with an aurodium plaque to be mounted on the bridge of the _Erinyes_.

As I accepted the plaque, I noted Ravage's clenched fist nearly hidden against the folds of his robes and I reveled in his bitterness and envy.

"And last, but not least, our Lord Emperor offers this final token of his esteem. He stated, that the duty should be yours alone."

A pair of Imperial guards carried the bound and gagged form of Grand Moff Zellos. The dark circles under his eyes, his sallow skin and hollow cheekbones suggested he had already served time with the Emperor. The guards secured him to the pyre and stepped away.

"Darth Marr, perhaps a few words in recognition of the occasion…"

I fixed my gaze first on Azamin and then Vengean. "Through unity…victory." I flung the lit torchiere low on the pyre and walked away.

The confused whispers of those present followed me before the roar of the flames overcame them. Each Dark Council member tossed their torchiere onto the pyre, including the pair that should have burned with Zellos.

The fire blazed higher, black smoke rising in thick plumes to create a shimmering mirage before the citadel. Zellos' muffled protests and writhing body stilled. Azamin and Vengean kept their distance as the others fell into their usual cliques. I turned my back to them. I had nothing to say, nor did I wish to entertain their false gratitude. I'd had my fill of the _festivities_.

The conductor urged the orchestra to resume the music program and had the sense to end on a solemn note.

Vowrawn approached, his steps measured by caution, as though he were approaching a feral beast.

He leaned in conspiratorially and kept his voice low. "Why don't we continue our celebrations elsewhere. I must say the stench of burning flesh is overrated. I know of a far more…shall we say _intimate_ and entertaining venue? Anyone who is anyone will be there…what do you say, hmm?"

I was about to decline when I sensed another presence behind us—Ravage.

Ravage threw back the hood of his ceremonial robes. "I know what his answer will be…it's what it _always_ is. Marr believes himself above the rest of us. I don't understand why you even bother, Vowrawn. Leave him to his hubris and let us be off."

"Indeed. Let us be off," I grumbled and started for the waiting limousine hovering by the curb.

Vowrawn clapped his hands together and his mouth spread into a wide toothy grin. "Why Ravage, I do believe you've done it. Had I known reverse psychology would've convinced him to join us, I would have done it an age ago."

Ravage scowled and I sensed his annoyance. Encouraging me to accompany them was the last thing he'd hoped to achieve. He kept his distance as he stripped away his robe and I sensed something else—he was hiding something—something he coveted—and something he feared to lose.

A light rain began to fall just as the limousine deposited us before a dark gleaming tower downtown. Servants dressed in elegant bespoke suits ushered us inside.

The club was lavishly appointed, silently boasting of its luxurious amenities. Tasteful and expensive art graced the walls and further inside, rare vintages of drink and spice lined the bar—but the most remarkable attraction of the club was neither its delicacies or furnishings—it was the bevy of alluring women, dressed in extravagant yet revealing clothing.

The club's host led us past a ballroom and a spice den and a casino. Exotic scents wafted past us, but none were so overpowering as to jar the senses, nor were any appealing enough to summon my attention.

"Where are we going?"

Vowrawn leaned in to whisper. "We have a private wing—that caters solely to the Dark Council and our guests. If you were impressed by what you saw on our way in…wait until you see what awaits _us_."

Ravage's scowl hadn't wavered since we'd left the citadel. "There's a matter I must attend to before I join the celebration."

He had retreated halfway down the corridor before we had a chance to acknowledge his excuses. Vowrawn chuckled and waved him away. "Ravage's tastes are quite singular…not the best company to keep if you wish to sample _everything_ , and knowing you, I think it's high time you permitted yourself to savor the finer things, even if only for a night. You've more than earned it, come."

Vowrawn paused here and there to grace a group with a witty quip or greeting as we walked. He was adored and he adored those who were present. He was in his element, a master of this excess filled domain—where he was fire, I was merely the smoke that shadowed it.

I followed him into the private wing—a darkened area dominated by firelight and heavy yet ornate furnishings. Sith art, tapestries, books, and holocrons lined the entry and further inside I detected massive ancient statuary polished to a high sheen.

Many of the Dark Council's guests had arrived and a vast banquet table of delicacies had been set out to partake in. Women even more extraordinary in beauty and rarity circulated throughout the room, serving vintage spirits and appetizers.

Despite the opulence and undeniable allure of all that surrounded me, I wasn't tempted by any of it—and when I was about to dismiss it and take my leave, I was struck by a familiar scent.

My mind raced to place it and Vowrawn's prattle faded from my awareness. My gaze darted about the crowded room, searching for the source and my breath caught when I saw a familiar hairstyle—dark, glossy and elaborately coiled.

Vowrawn called out to me, but I let his summons fall unanswered.

I pushed through the crowd in pursuit. I lost sight of her and when my panic swelled, I would catch sight of her again. The fragrance became more defined and my heart raced. I didn't dare to hope, but the combined scent of fresh snow and the alpine flowers that rashed the mountainsides of Alderaan returned me to a world I hoped never to see again—only because I loved one of their own so fiercely, that her loss was a crime I could never forgive.

I swore. There were too many damn people and all of them in my way.

My pursuit was met with both stern and curious looks. Those who deigned to stop me were pushed aside and forgotten, their offended whispers irrelevant. I followed the petite brunette toward what I presumed were the kitchens. If only she would turn around and allow me a glimpse of her face—then I would know if I was a fool.

A catering cart rolled through, blocking me from following. I scanned the layout of the room for another entry and bolted toward the corridor. I stormed down the hall, invading each room until I was certain she wasn't there.

A door at the end of the hall, marked for 'staff use only' was my only hope. I threw back the door and was met with the horrified stares of the kitchen staff.

"Where is she? The brunette?"

The staff exchanged glances and the chef stepped forward. "My lord," he bowed slightly. "The one that was here…returned to the lounge with her order…Apologies, but there are _many_ women here."

I abandoned the kitchen before the chef finished his apology. On my way back to the private wing, the host stopped me.

"My lord, is there something I could help you with?"

"The lounge…where is it?" I demanded. "Tell me! _Now_."

"If you turn left at the end of that corridor, it lies just beyond the arboretum. Allow me to show you the way, my lord."

"That's not necessary."

Seconds later I found myself in a room filled with trees and plants, waterfalls and birds with jewel coloured plumage. I heard the clink of glasses from beyond the trees and raced through the palm grove with a singular purpose. The fronds brushed past me impeding my vision, but the scent told me I was close.

I swatted at the annoying branches but my hand caught and crashed a tray instead. Dainty goblets tumbled to the floor and a spray of amber and vermilion liquor sloshed across my armor. A bottle of Whyren's Reserve tipped to its side and the amber-rose liquid inside wept over my boots and I found myself before her. She was clad in gathered bands of demicot silk the same brown as her hair and eyes and a bejeweled slave collar adorned her throat.

She scrambled over the floor to rescue the bottle and the ruined spirits. Cautiously, she peered up at me. Her eyes grew wide and she gasped. Goose pimples spread over her exposed flesh like wildfire.

"Liaseph!"

Her body shriveled into itself with shame. Tears spilled over her lashes and her lip quaked. She snatched the tray and hugged it against her body and fled.

"Liaseph! Wait! It's _me_ …Liaseph!"

Before she could escape the arboretum, the manager of the lounge caught her arm and bent it at a sharp angle. "You clumsy little fool. I'll have you flogged for this!"

Liaseph recoiled and sobbed. He flung her to the floor and raised his fist to strike.

I reached out with the Force, my hand curling into a claw. The manager rose off his feet and gasped for breath. I tightened my grip and watched him flail until his face flushed a deep crimson.

"If anyone is to be flogged, it will be _you_ ," I hissed.

The other patrons and their fawning slaves fled the lounge and arboretum and the thundering footfalls of the club's security raced toward us.

I released the manager and watched disdainfully as he struggled to collect himself and catch his breath. "I _want_ to see her owner. _Now_."

The manager had the sense to leave quickly and curious onlookers began to filter back into the lounge. They kept their distance and whispered back and forth from their darkened corners.

I knelt to lift her to her feet and held her before me. "Liaseph…it's _me_ ," I murmured. For a moment the fear that all memory of me had been stripped away from her gripped me. Not a day or night passed that I hadn't thought of her.

She stared at me, quailing in my arms. Her body trembled and I snatched an abandoned cloak from a nearby chair and wrapped it around her and held her close.

"Liaseph…say something," I pleaded, the backs of my gloved hands playing over her cheek. "Have you forgotten?"

She shook her head quickly and glanced about suspiciously as if to determine whether anyone had seen it.

The host returned in the manager's stead and bowed profusely. "If you will accompany me, Lord Marr. I'm sure any problem you might have can be resolved."

"That remains to be seen," I growled.

Masses of curious patrons and their slaves parted to allow us passage through the lounge and in the corridor.

I held Liaseph to my side, her body smaller and more fragile than I remembered.

She kept her eyes down and withdrew into her shoulders as we walked. Fear and shame roiled within her and the darkness in me jolted awake, their terrible hunger keenly aware of her presence.

The borrowed cloak slipped down and exposed her shoulder. I caught the material and rewrapped her more snugly. She clutched the material fiercely to keep it in place.

The host lead us to an office in the northernmost corner of the building and indicated a pair of opulent chairs before a sleek black island of a desk.

"The owner…will be with you shortly."

After the host left, I turned her face up. "Liaseph…look at me."

"I-I can't." Her lips turned down miserably and she kept her gaze riveted to the floor.

"If you will not look at me, then listen." I took her hands in mine. "Do you love me still?"

"I never stopped," she whispered.

"Then _that_ —is all that matters."

The double doors behind us swung open and I whirled on the familiar presence.

"Vowrawn..." A moment's confusion tainted my voice and then I understood— _he_ was the owner.

He moistened his lips and for the first time, in all the years I'd known him, he wasn't smiling.

"There are a few things I need for you to understand, old friend…" He tented his fingers and moistened his lips once more. "If…you'll permit me."

"Did you _know_?"

Vowrawn looked between us and swallowed hard.

My saber hand opened and closed at my side. "Answer me! Did you know she was mine? Choose your words carefully—whatever comes out of your mouth next will decide your fate."

"No—not at first." His voice quavered and sounded as if it had aged a decade in that moment. "I began to suspect something was wrong when Ravage banished her—"

"Ravage?! You _gave_ her to Ravage?" I roared.

Liaseph sank to the floor by my feet and held herself. She rocked back and forth and covered her ears.

I reached out with the Force and snatched Vowrawn off his feet. The darkness leaked from my wrists and rose up to coil around him, each tendril constricting until his eyes bulged and his skin turned the colour of a rancid eggplant. The room grew dark and the light flickered and went out. The emergency lighting kicked in, bathing the room with a dull red glow.

The chandelier vibrated and tinkled and then without warning every crystal shattered into dust.

Whispers echoed from the corners, each one growing louder than the last. The darkness churned and formed into dozens of skeletal rag-cloaked wraiths.

Liaseph shuddered and sobbed as the darkness closed in. Her ears remained shuttered against my wrath and the burgeoning whispers.

"Stop! Stop it!" She sobbed the words until they became a scream.

I released my hold on Vowrawn and watched him convulse on the floor as the wraiths hovered over him.

((to be continued…))


	34. Chapter 34

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Thirty-Three~**

 _Cunning is the ability to hide your own weakness while learning another's._

I was one with the darkness. The world fell away, leaving only the insatiable hunger that demanded the life at my feet.

The darkness chafed against what remained of my self-control. It craved Vowrawn's corruption and genius and my rage demanded an outlet the darkness was all too willing to provide.

Vowrawn writhed like a soilworm drowning in the rain. The whites of his eyes flashed, the brightness rivaling only that of his gnashed teeth.

The temptation to end him was too powerful to wraiths descended upon him in a thick black swarm.

His body shuddered, ribs creaking under the crushing burden of the feeding wraiths. His skin paled to reveal the depths of his depravity. The shadows orbiting his eyes gave him the appearance of a skull. I'd always known Vowrawn was vain and spent considerable power to preserve his appearance, but to what degree, had always been as much of a mystery as what lay beneath my mask.

His breath rattled up his windpipe with every labored breath he drew. Somewhere beyond the swirling darkness and flying debris, I heard a scream.

Liaseph threw herself in front of Vowrawn. "Stop! You're killing him!"

"He stole your freedom—stole you away from me—yet you defend him. Why?" I snapped.

"Why? Why?!" She glared at me, her gaze incredulous through her tears. "Because those _things_ ," she flung an accusing finger at the wraiths, "they're _not_ who you are."

"No, Liaseph. You're mistaken. This is _precisely_ who I am—who I always have been—and always will be."

She crossed her arms stubbornly and her brows pinched, framing her gaze with dismay. "I don't believe that."

Her eyes wounded me. "Then it's time you did."

"Ares… _please_. I'm begging you—let him go."

Her voice was barely a whisper now, but it wasn't what she said or how she said it that reached me; it was the way she looked at me—something in her eyes kindled my humanity. The memory of her touch and tenderness awakened a forgotten hunger, the warmth and light of it testing my resolve.

The darkness recoiled at my summons, not nearly so eager to return to the body that caged it as it had been to leave it.

Vowrawn groaned and his head lolled to the right. Liaseph darted to his side and took his hand, warming it between hers. "He needs a medic."

I nodded once but didn't move from where I stood. Liaseph's scent mingled with the air current as she scurried past me to fetch help. I drew a deep breath, savoring the fill of my lungs as if a long time had passed since I'd breathed deeply. How she could forgive his crimes was beyond my understanding.

I could not.

Vowrawn's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm but he didn't stir. Without his grandiose gestures and flamboyance, he appeared leaner and more brittle than he did when he was conscious.

The darkness whispered inside my head, demanding I finish him now that we were alone. I considered the merits of the idea, but before I could decide one way or the other, Liaseph returned with the medical droid in tow.

"He's over here. He— _fainted_. We're not sure _why,_ " Liaseph added quickly. "That's why I got you straightaway," she explained to the droid.

She averted her eyes and crossed her fingers behind her back as if this would somehow give credence to her lie. In truth, I was stunned that she felt the necessity to lie for me at all. Perhaps self-preservation in a place such as this demanded it. Truth was a luxury only the Sith could afford, and yet few indulged in it.

The droid dutifully scanned Vowrawn's body and injected a course of stims against the side of his throat. If it noticed the pulverized chandelier or the fine dusting of glass crumbs over the enormous black desk, it was clever enough not to let on. Vowrawn's flesh began to change from an ashen white back to the colour of faded wine.

After a final stim to Vowrawn's chest, the droid straightened and repacked its bag. "It would appear the master is suffering from acute enervation and diminished blood oxygen levels. I have stabilized his condition and recommend fluids and bed rest for the next two solar days. He should regain consciousness presently. Shall I summon security?"

"No, that won't be necessary. Thank you, IC-U1."

The droid's designation rankled me and my glare followed it out. I prodded Vowrawn's side with the toe of my boot hard enough to rock his body. "Everything is a damn game to you, isn't it," I muttered, half expecting him to wake with his usual inane smile and scoffing laughter.

Vowrawn didn't respond and I turned my back to him. The darkness hissed in my mind and I shuttered it away with the Force.

Liaseph flung herself against me, somehow wheedling into my arms. She pressed her body as close to mine as my armor would allow and closed her eyes.

The once familiar warmth of her body seemed foreign after so long an absence. Undaunted, she persisted in holding me, thin arms gripping tight against my sides, as though she understood that she was all that anchored my dwindling humanity.

I drew a deep breath and trapped her in my arms, my right hand cupping the back of her head. My anger dissipated and I was transported to another night—our first under the star filled Alderaanian sky.

The memories of what we were coursed through me, resurrecting all that I felt for her, and in that moment, I wondered, if perhaps we were each holding onto the best of the other to keep it from slipping away.

She would never fully understand what I was or accept it. I would need to keep secret the power that fuelled me—defined me—but for her, I would strive to preserve her illusion of me.

"I thought I'd never see you again," she whispered against my chest. "I can't believe you're really here, after all this time."

"Nor I," I managed. There was much I wanted to say—needed to say—and dreamt of saying, but the words fell short, inadequate to all that I felt.

"What is it?" She reached up to trace the grooves etched into my mask and smiled meekly. She struggled to keep her eyes on mine but lost the battle.

I lifted her chin and raised her gaze to meet mine. I wouldn't allow shame to rule her. "Not a day has passed, when I didn't imagine this moment…but now—now that it's upon us, I'm at a loss for words."

Her lips bowed with a smile. "We only _need_ three—I love you."

"And I, you. I love you more than I can prove."

We clung to one another like survivors who had narrowly escaped a catastrophe. We were home, but in the way that no physical domicile could define. All that we needed, we had in each other, but the moment wasn't to last.

Vowrawn stirred and when he came to, he used a chair to steady himself enough to stand.

Liaseph rushed to his side. "My lord, you shouldn't be standing…please rest." She abandoned him long enough to fetch the chair from behind his desk and position it behind him.

"My dear, you truly are a treasure, but I'm far more robust than it would appear." He cupped her face and smiled, his thumb skimming the apple of her cheek.

He sat and she doted on him, fetching him a blanket and then water. The way she served him bred questions in my mind that I didn't want to consider. She knelt before him and he petted her hair. "I'll be all right, Liaseph. I assure you."

"Don't be so certain of that, Vowrawn," I warned.

When she was certain he needed for nothing else, she returned to me. She dropped her gaze to the floor and clasped her elbows.

"It would seem, we've both had our share of secrets," Vowrawn wheezed, his voice still hoarse.

"Don't patronize me, Vowrawn. I've no interest in your _secrets_ or your slaving empire or the war you orchestrated in order to seize it. The only reason you still live is because _she_ desired it. You will free her and you will do so, _now_."

"Loathe as I am to part with her—she truly is a rare and most exquisite gem—she is yours and she is free to go."

"It's not that simple, Vowrawn. I demand restitution on her behalf. She will have her own wealth, and you will release her in writing. No one will dare impugn her character or her status as a free citizen of the Empire. No one. Not you. And certainly not Ravage."

"I understand you, loud and clear. Had I known…I can assure you, that neither of you would have endured this unpleasantness."

"But you _did_ know. Shall I summon Broysc? Or perhaps Ravage's bounty hunter Vex?"

"Dear me—you've certainly stepped up your game. Well done. I'm proud of you." Vowrawn clapped slowly and the inane smile I was accustomed to seeing, returned. His colour had almost returned to normal. He shifted his chair behind his desk and took up a data pad. After a moment's thought, he tapped several keys and offered the pad back to me.

"I trust that will suffice?"

I eyed the figure and passed the device to Liaseph. She glanced at the pad and pushed it back at me dismissively. She dropped her face into her hands and wept.

"Clearly it doesn't." I slid the device back to Vowrawn.

He swallowed and re-entered a new figure and passed it back. Liaseph glanced at it and held herself. "You don't understand…three hundred million credits won't restore what I've lost. No amount will. I was a lady and I lost something precious to me…" she hesitated, quickly biting back her words before she revealed too much. She averted her gaze. "I can never forget the filth that…that… _touched_ me."

Vowrawn stood. "My dear Liaseph. You are every bit a lady still—never doubt. That much has never changed and never will. There are qualities in a person…in a woman—that no adversity will ever take away, and you have those qualities in abundance. But if it helps, I know a ritual—it's quite simple really…I _could_ make you forget…"

She shook her head slowly. "Everything that's happened is a part of me now—I would be at a disadvantage if I were to forget that I was capable of surviving such horrors. Can we leave now? Please?"

"Of course, one moment." Vowrawn prepared the final documentation and transfer of funds and passed it to her. "You will be missed, my dear."

"Goodbye my lord." Liaseph curtsied and bowed her head. She kept her eyes lowered like a proper slave, and I mourned the haughty defiance I'd come to love about her on Alderaan.

I resettled the cloak over her shoulders and she took my arm.

I paused by the door and glanced back at Vowrawn. "Whatever we were, we're _finished_ , Vowrawn. Cross me again, and not even her grace will earn you my mercy."

"Understood. I quite take your meaning. But before you go—there is one more thing." He tapped the tip of his index finger against his chin. "Are you not the least bit curious as to the Jedi's fate and Ravage's involvement in it?"

"No. I'm not."

Liaseph paused and looked between us. "Who is Lord Vowrawn referring to? Is he talking about Master Rylister by chance? Where is he? Is he all right?" Her eyes grew round and her grip tightened about my wrist.

There would be no keeping the truth from her, that much I realized.

Vowrawn rounded his desk and leaned against the front of it, his arms folded over his chest, and feet crossed at the ankles. "All I can tell you is that he's on Korriban—but he no longer responds to _that_ name."

"What does that mean, my lord?"

"It means he's becoming Sith," I muttered.

Liaseph shook her head. "No! You can't allow that to happen. It'll destroy him. The Jedi Code—it's his life."

Silently, I cursed Vowrawn and his renewed attempt to draw us into his intrigues.

"I'm afraid that's no longer true. He doesn't answer to the Jedi Order any longer."

"So who does he answer to?" Liaseph blurted.

"Why to Darth Ravage, of course. He's his new master."

"I can't believe this is happening." Liaseph cupped her forehead.

"Don't test me, Vowrawn. I won't be a party to your schemes. If you attempt any contact outside of council concerns, I will end you— _that_ is my oath to you." I jabbed my index finger in his direction and swept Liaseph out of his office.

"You can't allow this to go on. He _needs_ our help. We have to get him out…send him home to the temple on Coruscant," Liaseph protested.

"We have much to discuss, but I will _not_ do it here."

Pockets of curious onlookers whispered in the halls and fell silent as we passed. The party in the private wing had resumed, cantina music leaking into the corridor and then I sensed the one presence that incensed me more than Vowrawn.

 _Ravage_.

((to be continued…))


	35. Chapter 35

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Thirty-Four~**

 _The expected is our constant, but it is the unexpected that gives it value._

Ravage strode down the hall in pursuit. Whether it was my growing agitation or the familiarity of his footfalls that drove her to glance over her shoulder, I'll never know. Her breath caught at the sight of him and she looked away quickly, the pensive look in her eyes suggesting that she hoped he hadn't noticed her; but it was too late. He _had_ noticed—long before she'd noticed him.

"Wings of the thranta," she huffed, "not this, not now." She quickened her pace almost to the point of breaking step away from me. Her cheeks flushed and she raised her right hand to visor her face from the leering patrons lining the hall.

"Liaseph! Stop! I demand to know where you're going," Ravage barked.

My body tensed. "I'll deal with him, once and for all."

Liaseph's grip on my forearm tightened. "No. Please don't. Those _things_ …you barely came back to me before. I can't lose you to them. Let's just go. _Please_?" She tugged hard on my elbow and I gave in to her wishes.

We continued toward the front entrance as if Ravage didn't exist to us. The host bowed as we passed.

"My Lord Ravage, is there a problem?" The host fawned and followed at his elbow. Ravage ignored the foppish young man, his attention fixed on Liaseph alone.

"Liaspeh! You _can't_ leave! I won't allow it!" Ravage bellowed, loud enough to attract the attention of anyone within earshot. "To me…this instant!"

She curled into my side and buried her face against me. "Why can't anything ever be easy," she mewled. I held her to my side and coiled my arm about her protectively but Ravage's outbursts had become impossible to ignore.

The double doors stood braced open to the street. The gauzy curtains in the foyer fluttered with the breeze wafting in, while the sounds of revelry on the crowded street competed with the diminishing noise inside. It seemed no casino, spice or spirit held the same intrigue as the scene unfolding inside the club. The hall swelled with the curious and they crept ever closer like a lava flow.

Despite the light rain and pale jags of lightning overhead, the streets remained congested as the celebrations continued. The limousine I'd arrived in remained by the curb and upon seeing our approach, the chauffeur droid threw back the rear doors and stood at attention.

"Liaseph!" Ravage bellowed. "You _can't_ leave! You're _mine_."

"Go to the car—now," I murmured.

Liaseph nodded and didn't argue. She drew up the hood of the borrowed cloak and sprinted toward the safety of the waiting limousine. She slid into the rear seat and the droid shut the door behind her.

Not a moment passed before Liaseph rolled the window down to peer out over the tinted transparasteel.

Ravage drew his lightsaber but didn't ignite it. "She's _mine_ , Marr. My claim supersedes yours. Return her at once."

I whirled on him. "No, Ravage. She was _never_ yours—and as of today she is a free citizen of the Empire." My saber hand flexed involuntarily, the hilt responding to my unspoken summons.

Ravage snorted. "I paid for her. I _know_ her. You spent all of a month with her—I've been with her for over a _year_."

"Against her will."

"She was leased to _me_ exclusively!"

"Speak to Vowrawn if you feel cheated."

"He had no right to sell her to you. I have a binding contract!"

"I didn't buy her, I _freed_ her. She chose to be with me—then and _now_." My lightsaber growled to life and I brandished it, leveling the tip toward his chest in warning. "If you even _think_ of encroaching on her, you willdie."

Ravage ignited his blade. "You dare threaten _me_?" He seized the offensive and jabbed low at my knees.

I deflected his blade and matched him move for move. As the exchanges blazed between us, I receded toward the doors until I stood upon the threshold. "You're making a fool of yourself, Ravage."

The host held his hands up in surrender and winced. "Gentlemen—my lords, _please_ …if you must persist, take your disagreement outside."

The host's pleas were lost under the savage growls of our sputtering lightsabers, and as we moved beyond the confines of the club to the rain-slicked esplanade, so did the lingering spectators.

Our colliding blades hissed as we traded blows, each maneuver, a blur of motion. The relentless back and forth continued between us and the throng swelled outward to avoid our gnashing blades as they swung with a preternatural speed.

Ravage was a skilled duellist, more so than either Vowrawn or Taxon—or for that matter, any other who'd challenged me over the years. His prowess with the blade rivaled my own—a fact he'd kept well hidden over the years.

I swiped at his legs and he leapt high to avoid the strike. The darkness raged within me, a growing tempest begging to be unleashed. I drew strength and speed from it as I claimed the offensive over Ravage to drive him back toward the club's entrance.

"She'll _never_ be yours. Never!" Ravage hissed. "I'll see to _that_."

Tempting as it was to trade barbs, I chose to let them fall unanswered and focused on driving him against the wall.

He guessed my goal all too easily and rolled to place himself behind me. I spun around and our blades locked again. Light ground against light, the blades skimming each other like lovers. I drove back his advances until he stood with his back to the door.

The darkness writhed inside me, whispering its warnings—warnings I chose to ignore in favor of rolling my wrist with enough precision and speed to disarm Ravage.

His lightsaber flew from his grip and tumbled end over end, the blade fizzling as it clattered across the esplanade.

I sensed him reaching for the blade with the Force but the darkness captured it first. I snatched the hilt from the inky fog and ignited it across my own blade, Ravage scissored between them.

"This ends _now,_ " I snarled.

Ravage growled, his teeth gritted with effort. I sensed his tug on my mind, as he attempted to steal my control over the darkness.

I threw my wrists apart to bisect his torso but instead felt a savage stinging burn smashing through my chest, not once, but twice.

At that precise moment, Ravage dropped to his knee to avoid the death blow, and in so doing, also avoided being struck by the round exiting the front plate of my armor to lodge in the wall beside him.

I staggered. Blood stained my armor and flowed down my back to my hips and over my abdomen, saturating the cortosis weave underlay.

The round trapped inside my body ground through muscle and tendon, forcing its way through my organs. These were no ordinary plasma bolts—they were far worse.

A shrill scream registered in the back of my mind—Liaseph.

Ravage's eyes grew round and he scrambled to his feet, his gaze panning over the fleeing crowd.

My hands grew numb and my heart raced. I dropped his lightsaber and backed away. I clutched my chest and coughed. Blood bubbled up into my mouth and dribbled to my chin underneath my mask. A sharp pain sucked away all the air in my lungs.

Ravage took cover behind the doorway with a peculiar uncertainty I'd never seen in him before.

Vowrawn appeared behind him and after a brief exchange, Vowrawn's personal security detail stormed through to clear a path. I shuffled behind them toward the limousine. Darkness clouded my sight and unless I relied on the Force I knew I would die. I pushed onward across the esplanade, my limbs growing sluggish and weak. A cold sweat beaded over my face and spots riddled my vision.

To my horror, Liaseph had left the safety of the limousine and fought her way through the crowd to reach me. I lost sight of her amid the dark armored troopers.

Fear rolled through the crowd, screams, and panic driving them to stampede in any free direction. I fed off their terror, using the strength to force my failing lungs and heart to function.

The security force battered those in their way, and with Liaseph in sight, I collapsed to my knees.

Two of Vowrawn's guards accompanied Ravage as he swept toward those that weren't quick enough to escape the mayhem.

Liaseph appeared at my side and kept me from falling. "You're—you're bleeding!" She glanced down at her stained hands. "Someone…please help us!"

Ravage stopped but didn't turn around. After a moment's hesitation, he vanished into the crowd.

"Someone help!" She cried out again, her voice lost in the scuffle. She tugged at my elbow. "Can you stand? I _can't_ lift you…"

I shook my head and gagged on my own blood. The words to reassure her wouldn't come, only more blood. I took her hand and pressed it to my chest plate. Liaseph winced.

"You _can't_ die. You can't leave me!"

The sensation of thousands of needles sticking me all at once ran from my face to my legs. I sensed Vowrawn's presence behind me and tried in vain to stand.

Liaseph looked up. "Lord Vowrawn…what's the meaning of this?"

"The meaning, my dear, we will discuss elsewhere. For now, it is imperative that you return to the car for you own safety. Instruct the droid to take you to Lord Marr's stronghold and have it com his medics to prepare to receive him. Surgery will be needed. Hurry now."

"I can't just _leave_ him!"

"Not to worry, my men and I will see to him. We will be right behind you."

My heart shuddered, each series of beats more erratic than the last. The troopers had deteriorated into black formless mobs as they lifted me onto a stretcher, Vowrawn's face the last I saw before darkness took over.

* * *

Without warning, I found myself on the Forcetide beach once more, but this time, I stood a mere arm's length from the void.

The past clung to me and I passed my hands over my chest where the exit wound had been. The armor no longer curled and no blood dribbled over the spiked metal. I stood as I had stood before and gazed into the void.

Inky black, it shimmered like water. I sensed a presence on the other side, but could not see who it was. There was a quiet strength there, fuelled by the same determination I knew—neither of us wished to surrender to the void, and I understood now, it was not the void that spoke to me, but another seeking to avoid its judgment. An ally, perhaps—or perhaps a deception. The darkness clouded everything.

"I told you…I will _never_ surrender." I tasted no blood when I spoke. My voice boomed across the void.

"And I told you, I will not fight you," the even emotionless voice asserted.

I was able to determine the voice was female—calm, patient, yet it carried with it the barb of authority. I reached out to the void but pulled back before my hand could breach the slick surface.

"There is more to see; more to learn. Go now and discover the truths that elude will meet when the time is right," the voice said.

A blinding light overcame the Forcetide beach and the past pulled me back to my fleshy cage.

* * *

I felt— _different_. My heart beat was measured, placid—synthetic. It was too perfect, too impassive. My blood moved as it was meant to move, but the engine that pumped it was no longer my own.

A Sith's heart is the cage that binds his passion, and now that was lost to me.

I became aware of my breathing next. Air filled my lungs, left them, and returned, but the sensation had changed there too. They were closely matched twins, but one of them was an imposter. The Force lingered on the surface of the new lung rather than permeating it as it did the rest of my organs.

I sensed I was not alone and though I was not yet conscious, I listened to the voices above me.

"Lord Vowrawn…it's been almost a week. Why won't he wake? Shouldn't he have regained consciousness by now?" Liaseph whispered.

"I should think soon—but you must consider this—even one as strong as he, will need time to grow accustomed to the cybernetic heart and the lung replacement. Even though the lung is his own tissue cloned, I would think a period of adjustment will be needed."

"I'm afraid for him. He looks so _pale_ …and these dark veins on his face…are they from the surgery?"

"No. _That_ is an effect of the dark side. The more we rely on it—the more mastery we gain over it—the higher the price it exacts from our physical form. Many of us keep our true faces hidden…it changes us within and without."

"But I don't want him to change. I'm afraid I'll lose him. He's _all_ I have."

"Now, now, don't look so disconcerted, my dear. He will recover, and why shouldn't he, when he has the most delightful motivation to do so right here by his side."

Liaseph didn't answer.

"Something else seems to be troubling you…perhaps I can ease your mind?"

"Has Imperial Intelligence discovered who's responsible? Do they have any suspects in custody?"

"I had rather hoped to spare you these details, but I do understand your curiosity. Darth Ravage arrested a man the day of the attempt."

"Why would _he_ help us to capture the assassin?"

"We Sith have many enemies, the more powerful we are, the more enemies we have. It is up to the Dark Council to eradicate these threats. I know things didn't end well between you, but I assure you, he is doing only that which is expected of him, no more, no less."

"I see. So who is this man? Why would he do this?"

"Our captive is an SIS agent—by the name of Torin Zane. It would seem Supreme Chancellor Berooken dispatched a husband and wife team to eliminate the more dangerous members of our hierarchy—as to the why, well, no other Sith has done so much damage to the Republic as Marr."

"What about the woman, is she still at large?"

"To my understanding, she managed to flee _before_ the parade—she is wanted for the Intelligence assassinations last year. We had mistakenly believed she was working alone."

" _Before_ …I'm relieved to hear you say that, my lord," she said slyly. "Otherwise, it might have seemed that Ares was being used to bait her. What assassin can resist a parade? Is it not the perfect venue for an assassination?"

"And so it is. I do enjoy the way your mind works, my dear. Had you been born with the Force, I daresay you would have made a most fascinating and cunning Sith."

"Why is Zane still alive? I thought Sith tended to execute their prisoners quickly."

"True, we do at that, but this man is SIS and has a wealth of intelligence worth extracting, I've no doubt Ravage will delight in plucking every strand of information from his mind. If it's any consolation, I'm sure it will be quite a slow and painful process."

"I'm sure," Liaseph hissed.

"For what it's worth," Vowrawn hesitated, "I believe he cared about you—in his own way."

"There was a time, I might've _almost_ believed that, my lord."

"Well…no need to dwell on the past. The end of a game is rarely as exciting as the prospect of a new one, don't you agree?"

"As you say, my lord."

"Marr is a fortunate man…I envy him."

"I don't know what I would have done without your help—thank you—for all you've done for him—for us."

"I'm only repaying a debt owed. You are an extraordinary woman, Liaseph—you risked yourself to protect me. Were I in your place, I'm not certain I would have been so gracious, so it is _I_ who should be thanking _you_."

"You're too kind, my lord."

"I have but one regret, dear lady—and that—is that I did not keep you for myself."

"My lord…please…I—" she protested and a soft gasp escaped her.

A moment of tender silence passed between them and I cursed my inability to wake.

"And on that note," Vowrawn whispered, "I shall take my leave of you. He will wake, and when he does, I'd prefer to be well ensconced in a round of pazaak— _elsewhere_. I'll show myself out."

"May the force, serve you well, my lord."

"Until we meet again— _Lady_ Liaseph."

The bed sank as she settled next to me and I felt the warmth of her hand over mine and her breath and hair tickled my neck. She sniffled and moisture beaded on my shoulder.

"Ares… _please_ wake up…I love you."

The light grew more persistent under my lashes and I woke. "And I you…" I whispered.

"You're awake!" She propped herself on her elbow and caressed my cheek. "I was so scared. Are you all right? Are you in pain? Can I get you anything?"

I stroked her cheek with the backs of my fingers. "No—all that I need…I have _here_."

((to be continued…))


	36. Chapter 36

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Thirty-Five~**

 _Love and loyalty cannot thrive without honesty._

The fire had dwindled to almost nothing. The embers had fractured into countless spiders, large and small. Their legs twined to form complex webs. Some blazed brightly while others fought to keep their spark, but they all had one thing in common: their eyes burned through the darkness keeping me from finding my peace.

So many spiders. _Too many_ —like the confessions I needed to make.

I could hear the rain patter beyond the walls, subtly competing with the crackle of the dying fire.

The sound invited me to close my eyes. The smell of smoke rising from the firebox carried me to another time where I walked amid man-sized flames and ruins and the cries of dying men carried like music over the land.

My heartbeat kept time with the marching troops and I craved war like the starving crave sustenance.

War was my purpose. I lacked the ability to sit idly, to find peace. I couldn't find it because I didn't want to find it.

The scent of alpine flowers mingled with the smoke and reminded me that war was no longer my only concern.

The door to my sanctuary stood ajar and I sensed Liaseph on the other side of it debating whether to interrupt or not. Though I was relieved to have her close again, this is what we had become in a few short days—two beings furtively shadowing one another, the truth stalking us both like a predator.

Her hesitation wasn't lost on me—she'd changed, but she wasn't the only one and we both feared the truth would irrevocably change what we were, or rather what we wanted to be.

She made her choice and swept into my chambers, trying for something resembling her old self.

"There you are!" She declared cheerfully. Her hands gripped my shoulders and she stooped to kiss the side of my neck and I tilted my head to allow it. "This place is enormous. I've been looking all over for you. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were avoiding me."

Her words caught me off guard and my response came too slowly.

"Unless of course…you _were_ avoiding me. Am I interrupting?"

She fidgeted with the aurodium lamé tassels dangling from the embroidered sash about her waist.

"Liaseph, sit with me." I shifted to one side of the short chesterfield to make room for her.

She settled across from me, tucking one leg under her body. She smoothed her skirts and looked at me cautiously. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes…and nothing will be right until we speak. We've avoided it for too long."

"You don't feel the same way anymore, do you…"

"I think it would be dishonest to say that after a year apart, and all that we've endured—that _you've_ endured, that we would remain the same as we were on Alderaan. I'm not the same man you knew and you're not the same woman."

"All that matters to me, is that you still love me…do you?"

"I do."

"Then what's all this about? I don't understand, Ares. I love you and I always will." She shifted closer to me and wheedled herself into my arms.

"Perhaps you will feel differently, once I tell you what I've done and what I know."

" _Now_ you're scaring me." She sat up straighter and turned to face me more directly.

"Then…I won't prolong it any further." I stared at the embers. I couldn't look at her. "Your father, your sister, Malon Baliss and his Matron are all dead."

"I know."

"And do you know that _I_ killed them?"

She nodded.

"How long have you known?"

"About a year…give or take…"

"How?"

"Ravage."

I fought the grimace forming on my face but said nothing.

"He found out about us. At first, I thought he was lying to hurt me, but then I realized you would've come looking for me after the Thuls took me away."

We sat in silence for some time, our words lingering in the air between us. She shivered against me. "You're so cold. It's freezing in here…how can you stand it?"

I patted her knee and without explanation, I rose to stoke the fire. I prodded it idly with the poker, but I knew the growing flames would do little against the cold—it was a cold that no fire could remedy. "There's more you need to hear."

"Like what?"

"I _know_ , Liaseph. I know all of it. I know about the mercenaries and the slavers—what they did to you. What they took. I doubt it's of any comfort, but I killed them for it."

"You knew about the baby?" Liaseph's eyes widened and her breathing hitched. "How did you find out? Did Lennie tell you? Did my father?"

"No—I watched your father's security recordings after they refused to help me find you."

"After you…killed them. Did you torture them?"

"I did what was necessary."

She shook her head warily and I could see judgment sparking in her eyes. "You didn't need to do that…You tortured Lennie… _why_?" Her voice cracked.

I hurled the poker into the flames. "Because she cared more about protecting that degenerate you call a father than about your well-being. She _knew_ about the child—and yet she refused to help you. She knew what your father was, what Baliss was. Had she any semblance of a spine, this past year would never have happened."

"She was probably scared—of him, of you. She never wanted to hurt me. She probably thought she was protecting me."

"No, Liaseph. She was protecting him. _He_ was all that mattered to her. Not you. He sold you for eight million credits! He _knew_ what they would do to you, to the child. He referred to you as damaged! His own flesh and blood!"

"Stop shouting at me! It's not helping. And why do you refer to him as _the_ child _?_ He was ours." She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. " _Ours_."

I turned away from her and paced before the fire. I ran my hands through my hair and growled to release the building rage. "Forgive me—you…you are not responsible for my anger," I managed. "I regret _your_ suffering. I do not regret theirs. And I most certainly do not regret their deaths. I regret the loss of _our_ child."

"I've shed my tears, Ares. Fighting you isn't going to bring Lennie or the baby back. This isn't accomplishing anything."

"You're wrong," I murmured. "I will not base our lives on avoiding the truth. I won't pretend, Liaseph. I can't. _This_ is who I am. I'll understand if you wish to leave."

"Is that what you want?"

"No. I only wanted you to understand. Look at us…existing in the same rooms, but never speaking our minds. You…you are not beholden to me in any way. If you can't accept what I've done…then so be it."

"Are you finished?"

I nodded.

"Good…because I have some things to say too."

"Very well, proceed."

"I'm not one of your troops." She looked at me matter-of-factly. "The truth is, I don't want to lose you a third time."

"What do you mean?"

"The holonet said you'd been killed. When I heard that," she shook her head slowly and kept her gaze fused to her lap. "I…I lost hope."

Her eyes shone with tears and she drew a staggered breath. "The thought of never seeing you again...I couldn't stand it. I wanted to die."

I looked up slowly as the gravity of her confession sank in. "But someone stopped you…was it Ravage?"

"No…an agent. He came from…I don't even know where he came from, he was just _there_. He told me the holonet made a mistake, that you weren't really dead. Then I asked him if he could send a message to you, but I was a fool. He must've been working for Ravage…because after they spoke, he knew about you—about _us_."

"Did the agent identify himself?"

"He said his name was Damars. I don't remember his last name."

"Was it Pallaron?"

"Yes, I think so."

I swore under my breath. "He's technically one of mine. I haven't met him personally, but I trust his commanding officer."

"Are you sure? Why would he tell Ravage then?"

"He was assigned to gather intelligence against him. I can only surmise, that Pallaron used you to further his own agenda—my agenda."

"He propositioned me! What kind of place _is_ this Empire of yours? That you need spies and liars in your service? How could you even employ someone like that? Didn't it matter to him what Ravage would do? What he _did_ do to me after?" Liaseph winced and held herself. "This Empire you protect…it's a twisted and evil place."

"If you'll recall, I warned you, that being a part of my world would require certain sacrifices."

"Can't we just leave it behind us? We could go anywhere…be whoever we want. Who would know?"

"The Emperor would know. _I_ would know. I am a member of the Dark Council and it falls to me to protect the Empire. Understanding that—accepting it… _that_ is the cost to being with me. I am no coward and I will not run."

"Is this how it's always going to be between us?"

"I prefer this to avoidance."

"You say that, but we're avoiding the most important discussion…" Liaseph stood and crossed her arms. "It's like you don't want to talk about the baby."

"Perhaps I don't. What will it serve?"

"Maybe sharing our grief would make it hurt less…I don't know."

"I suppose I can see the wisdom in confronting it…I heard you tell the Matron that you did it on purpose. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I was afraid you'd die. I wanted to keep a part of you with me…I didn't think you'd like the idea."

"I don't."

"Are you saying you don't want children some day?" Her brows pinched miserably as if I'd wounded her. Perhaps I had.

"It wasn't something I'd considered, no. What you fail to understand, is that my duty keeps me away. If we were to have a child, I would rarely see it. Do I seem the sort of man to father a child only to abandon it?"

"The war can't last forever…" She said sullenly.

"There will _always_ be a war, Liaseph. War defines the Sith."

"I'm _not_ Sith. But isn't that all the more reason to have a family? Is it so terrible to want a part of you all to myself?"

"Yes. Have you considered what would happen if the child is born Force-sensitive? What that would mean?"

She shook her head.

"At age nine, the child would be required by law to leave home to train at the Sith Academy."

"Education is a part of everyone's life. I understand that, Ares. A few months of the year isn't forever. We'll have summers, there will be vacations and—"

"Liaseph…no. Not here. You leave home as a child and then perhaps one day you return as an adult. Most don't. More die at the Sith Academy than graduate. Anger the wrong overseer or a rival and you die. One careless moment and you die. You mourn our child—a child neither of us knew or cared for or taught. Now imagine what would happen if an Academy herald appeared on our doorstep. I would _never_ wish that pain upon you."

"You talk like I'm the only one who'd be suffering."

"You would be. Our ways are not your ways."

"What if the child didn't have any Force powers? Then what?"

"Then they would attend the Imperial Military Academy."

"This…is a _miserable_ place…void of any joy or anything to live for," she murmured.

I drew her into my arms and held her. "I told you…being with me would _not_ be enough and I don't fault you for that. I've only ever wanted your happiness and I fear I'm not the one to give it to you."

She pulled away just enough to gaze into my eyes. "Don't say that!" She pressed her fingertips to my lips. "You said we could have a house…what if we made that house our own private world? A place, just for us. No Empire, or war. Just _us_. If we had a daughter…I could raise her as a proper lady. She wouldn't have to go to the Military school would she? I could keep her and one day she could marry a fine officer or even a Sith lord."

"Liaseph…" I groaned.

The disappointment in her eyes burned its way through the darkness and it pained me. I sighed heavily. "I suppose…a tutor could be arranged in that case…but by no means does that imply that I _want_ a child. In the end, it would only cause you suffering…"

"If I have to be alone so much, surely you can't begrudge me the company of children. _Please_ …at least think about it."

Grudgingly, I nodded. "All right. I'll consider it further. Is there anything more you wished to discuss?"

"There is…I want to talk to Master Rylister."

I frowned. "I _could_ arrange a meeting, but beyond that," I shook my head. "Vowrawn said he was on Korriban. There is only one place he could be…there's a hermit there. He teaches those believed to be beyond our reach."

"Please. I need to speak to him…to apologize for all that's happened."

"It's not your fault. He was captured because he was careless and stupid. You owe him nothing."

"I have to try and help him, he's my friend. You said you wanted honesty between us and that's what I want to do. He doesn't belong in the Empire."

"Of that, I have no doubt."

The silence between us grew thick once more and I wondered if we would ever reclaim what we once had.

"There is something, I wish to show you…"

"What?"

I took her hand and led her to my desk and as I rounded it, her gaze settled on the holographic display unit on the corner of it. "This…this belonged to my father."

"Yes. I took it."

"Why?" She depressed the button on the side and her holographic portrait rose from the center of the device and I glanced over at her, as the hologram assumed its poses.

"I feared I would never see you again...I didn't wish to forget."

She banished the images with a flick of her thumb and rounded the desk to stand before me. "I know it hasn't been easy…but I love you and I want to try."

"I had hoped you would." From inside the desk, I withdrew a holopad and after summoning the correct file, I set it before her.

"What's this?"

"That…is a map of Kaas City and its surrounding territories. This is the land I claimed for our home. I think you would be happier in a home of your own design, than here. Make it everything you need it to be. I only ask that I have one room set aside for my own use."

"You mean it? Can we hire an Alderaanian architect?"

"If that's what you wish…as I said, do whatever makes you happy."

She threw her arms around me and held me tightly. "I'm going to make you so happy, you won't believe it."

"Your presence already does."

((to be continued…))


	37. Chapter 37

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Thirty-Six~**

 _Love breeds the foulest darkness._

I've never believed in coincidences and I wasn't about to start believing in them now.

The passage was lined with rough-hewn stones, each one carved into the shape of a skull. At the end of the corridor, a pair of ornate doors stood open to the dancing shadows created by the torchieres flanking the entrance.

My mouth hung open and I was struck speechless. Firmly rooted in place, I struggled with the enormity of what it could mean. How could she have known? How could _this_ room exist _here_?

Each step I took across the glossy floor felt as if my feet had been weighted with stones. On and on I shuffled toward the chamber. Unlike my leaden feet, my mind was terribly alert as I took in the details with wide unblinking eyes. Every step taken forward seemed a step back in time.

The chamber boasted vaulted ceilings held up by thick black columns. The sconces roared to life as I passed them until the entire room was bathed in firelight. At the center stood a large altar—a rough-edged slab of ebony _granitite_ with runes carved into the edge. A brazier graced the far end and I was met with the comforting sound of snapping wood and crackling flames. The air carried a pleasant blend of smoke and burning _orowood_.

Rows of niches lined the walls, but unlike the ones I'd seen in Tulak Hord's tomb on Dromund Fels, these were empty waiting to be filled with my own holocrons. A _greel_ wood bench stood before the brazier, tempting me to sit.

With every measured step, I was a boy again, a beggar lord marveling at his legacy. I expected the Sithspawn beast to emerge from the shadows to greet me and when I ran my hand along the edge of the altar, I thought I would again see the visions of past and future generations conceived upon it.

Liaseph clasped my elbow and I remembered where I was and that I wasn't alone. The boy vanished and the man took his place.

"Ares? Don't you like it? I wanted to surprise you."

"If that was your goal, I believe you've succeeded."

"You look upset. You hate it don't you," she said glumly.

"No—but I must admit I'm mystified. How did you know? Did Vowrawn help you?"

"Vowrawn? No, of course not. Why would you think that?"

"Because he's the only other person alive to have seen this place."

"Are you telling me there's actually another room somewhere that looks like this?"

"Liaseph…it's an exact replica of Tulak Hord's tomb. You've never been to Dromund Fels and if Vowrawn didn't help you—how is this possible? Tell me."

"You're going to think I'm mad..."

"Liaseph…surely you understand how unsettling this is." I stared at her matter-of-factly.

"Alright. Ever since you showed me the holo map, I've been dreaming about this room. Please don't tell me I'm crazy. Our decorator already did that. I believe his exact words were, 'this is _so_ Ruusan Dark Ages. It clashes with _everything_.' Then he walked away muttering something about eclectic adornments. I haven't seen him since."

"I don't give a damn about the decorator." I seized her shoulders and stared into the depths of her eyes. "Are you unwell? As if you're not yourself? Do you hear any strange whispers? Voices?"

"No!" She swatted my chest playfully and laughed. "Of course not. I'm fine. If you don't like it, change it. I just wanted it to feel…Sithy enough for you. I thought you'd want a break from the _Kriin-wood_ paneling."

"The paneling is fine." I sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "If you have any other unusual recurring dreams, I want you to tell me, is that understood?"

"Understood, my lord." She mock saluted me and clicked her heels together. "You worry too much." She hefted herself up onto the altar and sat, her legs swishing to and fro.

"And you…you don't worry enough. _What_ are you doing?"

"Sitting. What's it look like?" Her mouth curled up at the corners and she gazed at me with impish eyes. "I have an idea…come here." She beckoned me closer with a curling index finger.

Warily, I edged closer, until I stood at her knees. "Did anything happen in these dreams that I should know about?"

Her cheeks flushed and she stifled a giggle. "No, why?" Her eyes narrowed as they searched mine. "You're acting like you've seen a ghost."

"In a way I have."

Her fingers played over my abdomen and hovered over the line of buttons fastening my cassock. I caressed her cheek and then moved beyond her reach. She pouted and her shoulders slumped.

"I see that you're disappointed. It's not what _you've_ done. It's that I—" I sighed. "I never thought I would set foot into that tomb again. I have my reasons. And yet, here stands its twin—a room _you_ had created from a dream. Can you at least acknowledge that it's odd?"

"When you put it like that…yes and I'm sorry. I didn't do it to upset you. All I wanted, was for it to be perfect. I want everything to be perfect for us."

"Liaseph…don't set yourself up for disappointment. No life is perfect and often times it is the imperfections that make it worth living."

"What more can I say? I'm sorry."

I took her hands in mine and kissed her fingertips. "I know, but I am concerned that you're being manipulated by forces you don't understand—or for that matter, perhaps, I'm the one being manipulated."

"You think this darkness you speak of is responsible." She frowned and averted her gaze. "I don't think it likes me very much."

"What makes you think so?"

"Because I don't approve of it. I'm scared that one of these times, it won't let go of you. I don't want to lose you. I love you."

"And I you, but what you fail to understand, is that I am its master—it's in my blood."

"Does that mean you're a descendant of this…Tulak Hord person?"

"Yes. He was the first master…and through him, I too became a Lord of Hatred and Master of the Gathering Darkness."

"Does that mean our children will be involved with the darkness too?"

I couldn't deny her question chilled me. "It's a possibility…a choice to be made when they're old enough."

"Ares, what aren't you telling me? There's more to this, I can tell."

"I could say the same about you. When I asked you if anything else happened, you denied it, but you're lying."

She blushed. "Lying is a bit strong, I wasn't _lying_. I was embarrassed. I thought it was just a silly dream."

"Then something _did_ happen. What?"

"We…made love here in my dreams. Is _that_ so terrible?" She turned her gaze up and eyed me mischievously.

"This is not the time to make levity. "

"Fine, I'll be serious. What aren't you telling me? I want to know."

I drew a deep breath and blew it out. "I was conceived in the Tomb of Tulak Hord, on this altar's twin, as was my father and his father before him, for generations—a tradition that marks us as descendants of the Hord line—except that he had a hand in my creation."

"What does _that_ mean?"

"It means my father was incapable of fathering a son—in the usual way. Hord made my existence—possible."

"But he's a ghost…"

"Yes, but his knowledge did not die with his physical body. He used his knowledge of the Force to create a life."

"So…they did some kind of ritual?"

I nodded and eyed her curiously. "Did anything else transpire in your dreams?"

"No, nothing else. So what now?"

"I need to think on this and I would prefer to do so away from here. Come." I drew her away from the altar and led her out of the chamber.

"You haven't seen the gardens yet. Maybe some fresh air would do us both good."

"Agreed. I have something for you."

She beamed up at me. "A gift?"

"If that's what you choose to make of it."

"Now you've got me wondering," she mused aloud. "Where is it?"

We passed through a circular gate flanked by thick hedges and Dromund Kaas was at once transformed into the world where we'd met.

The gardens were of Alderaanian design, with a dry garden dominating the landscape, but at its heart was a lush water garden. A stone sundial served to punctuate the dividing gravel path and I was reminded of our stolen nights behind the Thul palace.

I scanned the property until my gaze landed on the bulbous yellow-green eyes peering at us from the edge of the waterfall. The ginx croaked either in recognition or protest at being disturbed and Liaseph gasped.

"Our ginx! But how? How did you manage to get him away from the Thuls?"

I snickered. "Stealing garden vermin isn't exactly difficult. Having it smuggled onto the Imperial homeworld, now _that_ was a different matter entirely but it would seem the creature has important allies."

"I never thought I'd see him again." She took a few steps toward it and I snatched her wrist to reel her body in against mine.

Her breath caught at the surprising swirl of motion and I set her atop one of the flattened boulders lining the path and crushed her body to mine. I caressed her cheek with the backs of my fingers and lost myself in the warmth of her eyes.

"There's only one thing I need to make this home perfect, Liaseph…never doubt it—"

"—You'd better not say it's that ginx," she teased.

"Then I won't." I cupped her face in my hands, and her fingers crept up my wrists to rest on mine. Our lips touched and at once a powerful current of need drove me to claim her mouth. Her lips were as pliant and heady as sweet blossoms. She nibbled my lower lip and I understood that it wasn't tenderness she craved.

I stripped her to the waist, allowing gravity to complete the task. She stepped free of her clothing, her fingers rapidly unbuttoning my cassock to return the favor. Her mouth moved fervently over my skin, nuzzling and suckling my flesh until I could take no more.

I swept her into my arms and carried her into the pond adjacent to the waterfall and we clung shivering to one another, the water droplets on our bodies glistening under the larger of Dromund Kaas's moons.

I gazed down at her, taking a moment to appreciate the effect of the moonlight dappling her wet skin. I lifted her to me and she coiled her legs, locking them over the small of my back. I growled as I slid into her and she shuddered against me.

The ginx gawped at us and croaked.

"I don't think he likes sharing." Liaseph giggled and splashed the creature until it hopped out of sight.

"Neither do I."

She swatted me. "I was referring to the pond."

"And what makes you think I wasn't?"

* * *

The next morning, Tersus strode into my office in the north-western corner of the Sith Sanctum and honored me with a crisp bow. "My lord, you look well. It's good to see you."

"Likewise. I trust given the circumstances that we have much to discuss."

"Yes, my lord, that we do."

"Proceed." I indicated that he sit in one of the chairs facing my desk.

"Thank you, my lord. We've examined all of the rounds your people submitted after the attempt, and we've concluded that they are a positive match to the suspect's slugthrower cycle rifle."

"A primitive and unusual choice, especially for an SIS agent."

"Agreed, but they are capable of hitting targets at extreme ranges and penetrating energy shields, not to mention heavy armor. I've seen similar weapons before, during my time on Tatooine. The Tuskan raiders favored them. A fellow agent had his arm blasted clean off by one of them…ending a rather promising career before it truly began."

"Yes, I've studied these savages—but to my understanding, they're xenophobic to the extreme, how would Zane come into one of these weapons?"

"I examined the rifle myself and I believe it's a replica of a Tuskan weapon. When I was stationed there, I heard rumors of a cell specializing in training assassins deep within the wilds. They'd masquerade as Tuskans, I daresay an effective cover."

"A Republic cell?"

"I don't think so, but we've been unable to determine anything for certain. They're ghosts."

"And you believe Zane may have trained with them?"

"It's a possibility. He's been interrogated by several of your finest inquisitors, but not even they have been able to extract anything useful."

"What about Ravage?"

"Yes, my lord. He's had access to the suspect, but I've been led to believe that he's had no better success than any of the others."

"He's _lying_. This is his stock and trade. I think it's time I interrogated this agent for myself."

"I can arrange that, my lord. If you so wish."

"I do."

The edge behind Tersus's gaze sharpened. "My lord…permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

"Prior to your departure last year, I expressed my concerns regarding the Jedi Master Rylister and the means by which you two are connected. Given your response, I suspected that you may have been protecting someone. Forgive me, my lord, but it is my belief that I could better serve you if I were privy to all the details. Rylister has ties to the SIS, specifically to Aruna and Torin Zane. The Jedi did, after all, betray your location to the double agent on Zygerria. I have little doubt that further attempts on your life will be made. The Republic clearly wants you dead…"

"Hmph, it's not as if I haven't given them ample reason. What is it you're asking precisely?"

"You've neither confirmed nor denied my suspicions…but my instincts tell me there is a missing piece…an important one."

"Your instinct serves you well." I sighed. "Last year, to disclose her involvement in the matter would have risked endangering her. I kept her identity a secret—a decision I've come to regret most deeply. Had I entrusted you with the information, I believe matters would have unfolded quite differently."

"It is only out of the earnest desire to perform my duties as efficiently as possible, that I bring this up, my lord."

"During my tenure on Alderaan, I became acquainted with Master Rylister on the battlefield. He was a trusted advisor to House Teraan—and mentor to Lady Liaseph Teraan—perhaps you recognize the name."

Tersus blanched.

"I see you do."

"Yes, my lord—forgive me. I-I must confess, I was remiss in my duty, where she was concerned."

"Explain."

"You see, we became aware of a young woman confined to an apartment leased by Darth Ravage—my agent disclosed her name, her frame of mind and her desire to contact you," Tersus steeled himself and drew a deep breath. "I won't hide behind excuses. Had I believed she was of any importance at all, I would have found a means to deliver the information to you. I see now in retrospect, it was not _my_ place to make that call, but yours. I take full responsibility."

"At ease, Tersus. I value your integrity given the risks. Mistakes were made, but they were not yours."

"Thank you, my lord. That is most gracious of you, I appreciate your understanding."

"Your man Pallaron however—his actions are _not_ above reproach. I'm told he propositioned Lady Teraan—his assistance would not come without a price if you take my meaning."

"I apologize on his behalf, my lord. He is a gifted agent, and I request clemency where he is concerned. He has served the Empire with distinction. It would be a shame to dispose of an agent of his caliber due to one misstep…a regrettable one, but still…"

"It is only because of your endorsement that he lives. See to it he's reassigned. I don't care where so long as it's not within the Empire. I never want to see or hear the name Damars Pallaron again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord." Tersus swallowed hard. "Forgive me—but you _have_ ascertained beyond any doubt that she is worthy of your trust? Given her connection to Rylister…you don't think it's possible she is part of the Republic's scheme to gain access to you?"

"I trust her unequivocally—you could say, I trust her with my life."

"I believe I take your meaning, my lord."

"Is there anything further?"

"There are two other items on the agenda…"

"Continue."

"I have received reports that the Republic has captured the Dread Masters and executed them."

"Lies. They're _not_ dead. I would have sensed their passing in the Force. Power such as theirs would not vanish unnoticed—not by any Sith, least of all our Emperor. Who was responsible for their capture?"

"Master Jaric Kaedan."

I chuckled. "I greatly doubt he captured them single-handedly. If not for his master, Ngani Zho, he wouldn't have survived _our_ encounter with only a scar to show for it."

"He had several battalions of special forces at his command. Apparently, they were able to overcome the Dread Masters through his battle meditation."

"Yes—a specialty of Zho's, I understand. He trained most of their current council—including Kaedan and Satele Shan."

"Speaking of which, she's disappeared, my lord. No mean feat."

"Last I heard she was on Alderaan with Havoc Squad against Malgus. She's still alive?"

Tersus nodded. "Yes, I believe so. A few months have passed, but it would seem, she has withdrawn on her own terms. The reasons are as unknown as her location."

"What of Malgus?"

"He did not leave Alderaan unscathed. He wears a respirator now."

"If you learn anything further, keep me apprised. There's more to this, I've no doubt."

"Of course, my lord." Tersus scanned his datapad, brows furrowed. "I believe that concludes my report. Is there anything further I can assist you with my lord?"

"Set up the interrogation with Zane. Aside from that, no. That will be all—dismissed."

((to be continued…))


	38. Chapter 38

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Thirty-Seven~**

 _Trust in the Force, not your eyes._

"My lord," Tersus bowed and fell in step with me as we continued down the rear corridor to maximum security cell block B-8. A trio of maintenance droids trundled by and another unit hovered by a control panel, sparks leaping from its welding attachment.

"Routine maintenance?"

"I would think so, my lord. The systems here are regularly upgraded and codes are rotated hourly, or so I'm told."

We turned the corner and passed a line of cells, each filled with sleeping inmates. The odor of sweat, urine and a vaguely familiar combination of chemicals lingered despite the air exchange system thundering above. The vent lay askew and a repair droid rose upward to repair it.

Tersus tapped his clearance code into the keypad and stood aside to allow me to do the same.

"I trust the prisoner has been delivered to the interrogation chamber?"

"Yes, my lord. Keeper agreed that making you wait would be a waste of your time."

"Good."

The doors to the chamber parted. Torin Zane's barely conscious body lay secured to the interrogation table by his ankles, thighs, chest and wrists. The heavy electrified shackles cut into his flesh. A half-dried trail of blood droplets dotted the floor and rust coloured blood smears marked the edge of the table.

The agent's matted greasy hair split across his forehead and dark crescents swelled under his eyes. Several days worth of stubble darkened his jaw. Though his dossier indicated he was only twenty-five years of age, he could've easily passed for a decade more.

I circled the table and folded my arms. "So _this_ is the SIS filth that failed to kill me."

Tersus said nothing, but clasped his hands behind his back and stood at ease at the side of the chamber, giving me room to work.

"You're going to come to wish you hadn't failed, _agent_." I poured a ball of lightning from one palm to the other. As the energy gathered and grew in my hands, the man shuddered and regained his awareness.

"Mhmhmmmgrgh," he groaned as if he'd been gagged. His eyes grew wide and he struggled against his bonds. Panic and fear hammered in his chest.

Torrents of electricity shuddered through the stun cuffs as he fought his bonds until the stench of burning flesh permeated the room. Jags of lightning lanced over his arms and legs. Zane roared, the sound blunted and raw.

I threw the volley of lightning, the burst powerful enough to lift his torso from the table. A pale blue holo-matrix flickered over his body, the grid fluctuating between the energy powering it and the image it was programmed to project.

The body slumped back onto the table and Tersus and I exchanged looks. He frowned and moved closer to the table, his eyes sharp and narrowed. "My lord, something isn't right. I thought I saw—did you see it too?"

"Yes. We've been deceived. This—this is _not_ the SIS agent." My gaze shifted between the man on the table and the blood trail dotting the floor.

Tersus bolted across the chamber to the holocom. "This is Tersus, authorization, N4-CR. I am ordering a lockdown of maximum security. Deploy all security droids and troops. Prisoner TZ-001 is at large. We need him alive. Shoot to stun only. I _repeat_ , shoot to stun only."

The holo-matrix fluctuated and malfunctioned with a flash to reveal the identity of the man on the table.

"Keeper," I hissed.

Tersus plucked the device hooked into the man's belt and scowled. "He's been equipped with a hard-light holoprojector. Zane must have overpowered him…but how? Surely he couldn't have managed this alone? He must've had help."

"Zane and his accomplice could be off world by now."

"He would've been thoroughly searched when he was processed. The accomplice must have smuggled the device into detention. Maybe he can tell us." Tersus filled a syringe with an adrenal and jabbed Keeper's arm.

The trail of blood droplets led to the biological waste disposal bin and I reached inside. I held up a lump of slimy pink tissue. "He won't be telling us _anything_ ," I snarled and pitched the severed tongue back into the bin.

"Bastard cut his tongue out…why?" Tersus hissed. "Why not just kill him?"

"That would be too simple. He's mocking us. This is a game to him. It's not as if it will keep us from ringing the truth from him."

Keeper shrieked and mumbled, blood tinged saliva dribbling from the corners of his lips.

"Sir, you must remain still. I'll administer something for the pain. Don't be alarmed," Tersus muttered and injected his superior with _Nullicaine_. "He needs a medic."

"Then summon a med team—see what can be done."

"At once, my lord."

The halls beyond the chamber echoed with the stomping footfalls of troopers executing their searches and the clang of metal feet indicated the droids had begun their patrol. The medical team arrived and worked in haste to connect the portable kolto tank and monitors.

The holocom chimed and the holo image of the warden rose up from the device.

"Marr here, go ahead."

"My lord, we've just received an alert from the spaceport perimeter patrols. A pair of individuals on speeders have been spotted en route to the spaceport, at the following co-ordinates."

"Inform spaceport security to intercept them. I want them taken alive. I'm on my way."

"As good as done, my lord." The warden's image flickered and vanished.

Tersus abandoned the surgical team and approached me. "My lord—allow me to go in your stead. This could be a trap."

"There's no time to debate this. Tersus, you're with me—requisition the speeders, have them brought to the side entrance."

"Yes my lord."

We mounted the Praxon Xenos the transportation officers had prepared and sped through Kaas City until we reached the surrounding jungle. Lightning cracked the sky above us and deafening crashes of thunder followed in its wake.

Palm fronds whipped us as we tore through the vegetation. Herds of Yozusk screeched and snorted at our transient presence. The bull male gave chase for a short distance before falling back out of my rear view. A vinecat pounced through the thick grasses and bawled its frustration at our velocity.

The rain thickened into fat ropes as we approached the spaceport. Troopers stood on alert and armored assassin droids paced before the entrance.

We dismounted almost in unison and sprinted toward the spaceport entry. I drew my lightsaber and my hand flexed, itching to ignite it.

The twang of blaster fire ricocheted off the durasteel walls inside and the troops outside bounded into the spaceport.

"I have a bad feeling about this, my lord."

Not three meters from the ramp adjacent to the taxi stand, a deafening rumble was followed by plumes of flame and smoke. A rain of droid and human limbs came down as we were thrown back several meters. Debris cut through the air like a volley of daggers. I threw myself over Tersus's prone form and remained there until the torrents of detritus stopped falling.

Flaming leaves and ash fluttered around us. I turned the agent over. "Tersus—are you injured?"

He groaned and shook his head. "No…I'm fine. And you, my lord?"

"I'm unharmed." I pushed myself to my feet and offered him my arm.

He clasped my forearm and I pulled him to his feet. As soon as he was up, I bounded inside the burning spaceport. Bodies littered the concourse and thick black smoke ebonized the interior.

The roar of thrusters shook what remained of the spaceport and a D-5 Mantis rose up and shot off into the sky.

Tersus hobbled in and coughed. "My lord…your com…if I may? I seem to have misplaced mine."

I passed him the device. "This is Tersus," he managed between gasping breaths. " I want that ship tracked and intercepted—the D-5 Mantis. Do not allow it to leave Imperial space and dispatch an emergency service team to the spaceport. There was an explosion…we need assistance with survivors. Tersus out." He passed the com back to me and stooped to rest his hands on his knees. He winced but made every effort to mask his discomfort.

Between us, we recovered two dozen survivors and laid them out where the taxi stand had been.

The rescue teams arrived and fell into their duties.

I drew a deep breath and eyed Tersus. "I believe you were mistaken—you're clearly injured." I nodded toward his shriveled posture.

"I believe you may be right, my lord. I think I might have cracked a rib or two." He held his side and despite his best efforts couldn't straighten his posture.

"Have a medic see to it at once and after they've cleared you for duty, meet me in my office."

"Yes, my lord."

I turned away to leave when he caught my elbow. "My lord—before I forget—I want to thank you for your protection."

"Think nothing of it." I mounted the speeder and sped off toward the citadel.

((to be continued…))


	39. Chapter 39

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Thirty-Eight~**

 _Ban gon wan she co, cah._

Tersus appeared in the doorway of my office. "My lord—reporting as requested."

I motioned him inside and indicated the chair across from me. "What have you learned?"

"A great deal, my lord. We've captured the D-5 Mantis between Imperial and Hutt space."

"And?"

"The ship belonged to a Captain Collo Vex—"

I frowned. My memories surrounding the name seemed to be wrapped in cobwebs and the information I needed lingered on the border between reality and the ethereal. "The name is familiar."

"Yes my lord—if you'll recall the audio recording I pulled from the torture droid prior to your departure last year—Lord Vowrawn and this captain spoke briefly, during Rylister's interrogation."

"I remember."

"He was one of the more successful bounty hunters in the Empire's stable—he's assisted with the capture and elimination of several minor nuisances over the years."

"You've referred to him in the past tense twice now. Is he dead?"

"Regrettably, yes, my lord. Executed, I would presume, given the close range blaster burns to his face."

"What of Zane?"

"He and his accomplice appear to have escaped."

I slammed my fist against the surface of my desk. "How did this happen?"

"They left little in the way of audio or visual evidence. As near as my people can determine from the captain's logs, my lord, it would seem Vex was hired as a smuggler and getaway pilot."

"Go on."

"His instructions were to await the arrival of a pair of maintenance droids at our spaceport to be transferred to the Jabiim system where he would receive payment. I'm inclined to think he wasn't aware of what or rather whom he was transporting until it was too late."

"You have a theory."

"Yes, my lord. I believe Zane's accomplice was none other than his wife. I doubt she left Dromund Kaas as we were led to believe. If I were to speculate, I think she was the one to have breached maximum security with three of the holo disguises. It makes perfect sense—one to disguise Keeper, and the others to disguise themselves. Maintenance droids are easily overlooked."

"So you believe, they escaped as droids…made their way to the spaceport and escaped on Vex's ship."

"Exactly, my lord. As for the explosion, that could have been accomplished at any time, but I'm inclined to believe Aruna Zane sabotaged the spaceport, prior to helping her husband escape."

"And you believe that once they reached the rendezvous point, they killed the captain."

"That appears to be what has happened. No doubt, being seasoned agents, the loose end concerned them, especially given his ties to the Empire. Residual energy signatures suggest a Republic vessel intercepted and collected the agents, before escaping into Hutt space—Vex's ship was left adrift."

"What is Keeper's condition? Has he been debriefed?"

"He was unable to provide much insight given his current condition. The vocal cybernetics need time to fuse with the surrounding tissue. It will be several weeks before he's able to speak intelligibly again."

We sat in silence for several moments. Tersus's gaze grew distant and steely.

"You wish to say something further, Tersus?"

"I hesitate…given the nature of my what I'm about to say—I don't wish to appear— _disrespectful_. That's not my intention."

"Consider this a standing order—speak freely. I believe we've known each other long enough to know that our respect is mutual and implicit."

"Thank you, my lord. I would never presume to take that privilege for granted. Perhaps it is time Lord Vowrawn be questioned given his familiarity with the Captain. It appeared that they were quite well acquainted."

"Do you believe he's in league with the SIS? That _he_ abetted their escape?"

Tersus thought for a long time and then shook his head. "No. I'm no stranger to Sith infighting and politics, but in this case, my instinct says not—but perhaps we might glean something more from him—something that might aid us in capturing the fugitives."

The memories bound by the cobwebs in my mind stirred, like a pupa seeking to escape its cocoon and take wing.

"It's not Vowrawn. It was _never_ Vowrawn—he's been actively seeking those responsible for the former Minister's death, and to root out the moles undermining Intelligence and the Empire."

"Why do you believe it matters to him so much, my lord?"

"Because it levels his playing field. In order to play his game, he needs to be able to look down on all his pieces. You can't move a pawn if you don't know what it can accomplish." I pushed away from my desk and stood. "But there is another—and it's time I confronted him, once and for all. This is no coincidence. Ravage captured Zane and now the agent escapes with the assistance of _his_ bounty hunter? And now that very hunter is dead? Perhaps Vex knew too much."

"Perhaps. My agent did uncover several transactions between Ravage and the hunter—and given that the Jedi is now his apprentice, clearly their partnership bore fruit—but if you confront Ravage now, we lose any advantage of secrecy. If he believes himself above suspicion he may grow careless."

"There may be another way—I have unfinished business with Rylister. If I can persuade him to co-operate, perhaps all is not lost."

"And if he doesn't?"

"He will. I plan on making him an offer he won't be able to resist. Continue monitoring the situation and keep me apprised. Dismissed."

"Of course, my lord." Tersus bowed and left my office, leaving me alone with my planning.

I stood over the holo console and tapped in the frequency. "Lieutenant Kayle, prepare my shuttle and inform my pilot to meet me at these co-ordinates in precisely one hour."

"Understood, my lord."

* * *

Three-quarters of an hour later, I found Liaseph re-packing a snow sphere into an elaborately carved kriin-wood chest. Her brows puckered and her mouth was tight. She slammed the lid down and backed away from the box as if it would bite.

My eyes narrowed at the sight of the chest—the same spider silk that obscured my memory of my visions bound my memory of the globe and its matching chest. The familiarity of the items set me on edge and then I remembered why—they were gifts from Ravage that I remembered from my vision.

"You're upset," I muttered as I came up behind her.

"It's nothing. Nothing I can't deal with. Just a mistake."

"Then return it—or if it pleases you, keep it, but know that it will always remind you that it was a mistake."

"I'm sending it back, I don't want it." She turned her back to the wooden box and set her hands on my chest. "You're home early. Is everything all right?"

"I have business on Korriban. You wanted to speak to the Jedi, this is your chance."

"You know I want more than just to speak with him. I want him freed. He doesn't belong there."

"That would be why you're going to present him with a choice."

"Me? What choice? I don't understand," she shook her head, brows furrowed with concern.

"We'll discuss it on the way. The shuttle is due to arrive in minutes."

"I'll go change," she patted my chest and ran off.

* * *

The shuttle's wings folded into a tall triangle as it set down amid dusty clouds of rust-colored sand on Korriban. We strode down the extended ramp to the hot sand and Liaseph paused to take in the rosy sky and the bowing monoliths against the horizon.

She squinted against the light and drew her hood forward to shield her eyes. "It's beautiful. I would never have imagined such a place to exist."

"I believe you may be the first to describe it so generously, but do no let the light and heat fool you. It is a world defined by the dark side and by death.

I stood at her side and reveled in the darkness, the vibrations stirring my blood. The wind carried the whispers of those long dead and Liaseph shuddered. "What was that?"

"Pay it no mind. Come." I extended my hand to her and led her toward the stairs descending into the tomb of Ajunta Pall. "Do not allow your senses to deceive you. So long as you stay with me, no harm will find you."

"And this is where Master Rylister has been all this time? In a tomb?"

"Yes," I said simply opting not to elaborate further.

The bowels of the tomb were surprisingly bright and cool. Voices carried from the chambers ahead, but these were the voices of the living, not the dead.

A man cloaked in tattered dusty robes emerged from the tomb and Liaseph hesitated. "He won't harm you," I murmured.

"My lord," The man bowed deeply. "Welcome to my humble abode. You honor us. And who do you bring with you?" He took a step forward and eyed Liaseph with curious amber eyes.

"Lady Liaseph, this is the man I told you about, the sage, Lord Spindrall."

"Lord Marr spoke highly of you, it's an honor to make your acquaintance." She curtsied and favored him with a genial smile.

Spindrall didn't return the smile but bowed curtly. "The pleasure, is mine, lady. Now, how may I serve you, my lord?"

"The one formerly known as Rylister, the lady wishes to speak to him. I trust he is still profiting from your guidance?"

"Miraluka are difficult students, and he is a particularly adversarial charge. You will find him through there, he answers to Abraden now."

"May I?" Liaseph glanced between us.

I nodded. "I will remain here with Lord Spindrall."

"If you'll accompany me, my Lord," Spindrall indicated I join him, with an upturned palm.

He led me to an antechamber and indicated the rusted grate near the ceiling. His lips curled up at the corners and his somber yellow eyes glowed meaningfully as we listened.

"Master Rylister!" Liaseph exclaimed.

"Liaseph? What are you doing here? Is Ravage here too?"

"No, he's not here. I've been so worried about you. Are you all right? Have they been treating you well?"

Rylister laughed ruefully. "Still such a child. Look at me, Liaseph. Do I look all right to you? Do I?"

A moment of silence gave way to a soft gasp. "Wings of the Thranta…those scars on your back…Did they whip you? And these…burns? They're from the sabers?"

"Still over stating the obvious. I see some things never change."

"Maybe not, but _you_ have and not for the better."

"Did you think I'd turn into some paragon of virtue in this hell hole?"

"Please don't be like that. I never wanted this for you. Do you think it's been easy for me?"

"Let me think about that—life as a pampered pet or being stuck here?"

The sound of flesh slapping flesh echoed through the grate. "How dare you. At least you weren't being defiled on a daily basis. You should be ashamed of yourself. I'm sorry I even came."

"So why did you? And how did you get to be here, I doubt Ravage would unleash you."

"I came because I wanted to set you free."

"You expect me to believe you have that power?"

"Well, not me exactly, but I know someone who does."

"Like who?" Rylister barked.

Spindrall's eyes flashed and he shot me a challenging look. I nodded and continued to listen.

"Darth Marr."

Rylister snorted. "I should've known. So he finally found you did he?"

"We found each other, yes, and I'm free now."

"You don't actually believe he's helping me out of love for you, do you? Please tell me you're not that naïve."

"You're making it very difficult. I have a good mind to turn around and walk out of here."

"What does he want, Liaseph? He'd leave me here to rot if he didn't want something."

"Well, he needs a favor. The deal is that he will free you and you can return home to the temple, but he wants you to deliver the Zanes to him. They've murdered people on our world. They tried to murder _him_. He wants justice."

"Justice?" Rylister laughed bitterly. "And what about justice for all the men, women and children he's butchered across the galaxy? Where's their justice? He's destroyed entire worlds to steal resources and he has the gall to demand justice? It's not justice Lia. It's called vengeance. They tried to kill him, and now he wants to return the favor."

"What does it matter, so long as it gets you home?"

"Did you even hear anything I said about him? He's destroyed planets and fleets just to fuel their war effort."

"I heard you and I don't care. What matters is getting you out of here. All you have to do is get them to meet you. He'll do the rest."

"I would rather die than betray them. They're my friends."

" _I'm_ your friend. If they cared about you, they'd be the ones trying to save you. _Please_. I want to help you get away from here. You don't belong here."

"No. I won't do it. Here's something for you to think about Lia. If I gave them to him, would you leave him to be with me?"

"No! I love him."

"There was a time I thought, there was a spark between us—that we could be something more than we were."

"I had a crush on you, that's true, but you knew for years what my father wanted to do and you did nothing."

"I would have made it possible to preserve your family. We could have had everything."

"Oh, I see how it is. You expected me to marry Malon, stay in the family but be with you, while you're still with the Order? I couldn't do that any more than I could leave Ares to be with you."

"Now maybe you understand the position you're putting me in. I can't betray my friends. I won't. They're good people, they do good work."

"They're spies and spies are the worst. You can't trust a spy. They're professional liars."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I do so. Ry, please. Give him the Zanes and go home to the Temple. You'll be safe."

"I'm sorry Lia. I'm going to stay here and become Sith. My friends will be safe and maybe, one day if you come to your senses, we can finally be together."

"No. If you won't help us—this is good-bye."

"Can I at least hold you one last time?"

"No. Good-bye, Abraden."

"I'm sure Ravage will find this interesting," he called after her.

"I can't believe I ever cared about you!" Liaseph sobbed and her footfalls indicated she was leaving the chamber.

Spindrall's gaze fixed on me and we moved away from the grate.

"That was a damning admission. What do you intend for me to do now, my lord?"

"Set him free."

"How am I supposed to take that, my lord?"

"I believe you know."

Spindrall nodded. "I understand. But what of Lord Ravage? What do I tell him?"

"Tell him—his apprentice failed."

Spindrall offered his hand and I accepted it. "The dead are Korriban's gravity. I will see your will done, my lord."

((to be continued…))


	40. Chapter 40

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Thirty-Nine~**

 _Beware the malice of a patient enemy._

The holo-image vanished from the surface of the console, but the man and his news remained burned into my senses. I removed my mask and set it on the long table by the hearth. The etched durasteel face teetered back and forth and when it slowed to a mere vibration, I turned my thoughts to the decanters arranged on the sideboard.

Spirits were something I rarely indulged in, but this day the tangy vapor called to me through the cut glass and thick waxy stopper. I filled the tumbler half way and considered the honey-gold liquid before putting it to my lips.

The drink was a toast to victory and an unspoken eulogy in one. I downed it and when I set the empty glass next to the bottle, I sensed Liaseph's presence behind me. My distraction was such that I didn't sense her crossing the room.

Her eyes remained downcast and she moved deliberately, stoically, as if she were exerting great concentration to maintain her composure. I reached for the bottle again, when she stopped me.

"Allow me." She refilled the glass and when she finished, she presented the tumbler to me with both hands like a servant would. Seeing her so humbled still stirred a thread of anger within me and the darkness tugged at it, wanting for more.

"I'm quite capable of pouring my own drink," I began, my tone harsher than I'd intended. The wounded look in her eyes demanded I make the effort to soften my manner. "But thank you, all the same."

I left the drink untouched. Her shoulders sank and her entire demeanor shriveled, including her tentative smile. Music filtered into the chamber from another room in the stronghold—some sort of macabre children's choir accompanied by deep strings and I was left searching for the meaning of it. Perhaps it was her way of communicating something she didn't dare say.

"That man you were on the holo with…was that Lord Spindrall?"

"Yes, yes it was."

"I thought I recognized his voice. What was it about? Was it about Rylister?"

"He's dead."

She sat down heavily on the temple bench. Her fingertips hovered over her lips and her eyes filled with tears. Her hand dropped to her chest. "How?"

"A duel against another student."

"Who was the student?"

"What does it matter? He bested Rylister—but if it's any consolation the boy succumbed to his injuries afterward."

"I _said_ —who was the student?"

"Simeon Ur."

Recognition burned in her eyes. "That's Ravage's son. Did you arrange that? Make them fight each other on purpose?"

"What if I did? Does it matter?"

"That's cruel. I can't believe you'd do such a thing, or that they'd allow that—his apprentice to fight his own son—and now they're both dead? I can't believe it."

"Believe it. It's true. _That_ is the way of the Sith. One should have emerged the victor—yet both proved— _weak_." I pressed the tumbler into her hands. I half expected her to throw it and when she accepted it with shaking hands, I was almost disappointed. I would have deserved it.

After one mouthful she rejected it. "I can't believe he's gone. I thought he'd change his mind and help you once he'd thought about it. I thought maybe, somehow you two could become friends."

"That's naïve. The man who was your friend died a long time ago. Even if he hadn't _we_ would never be friends."

"You could have removed him—taken him away by force. He didn't have to die."

"It was only a matter of time. Death stalked him like a tukata stalks the wounded. I think, even he knew that."

"Why did I let you talk me into this? His blood is on my hands now as much as it is on yours. I as much as killed my friend." She looked up at me with accusing eyes. "You could've saved him! Why did you let him die?" She sobbed into her hands and I turned my back to her.

"He died because he was a fool. He had his chance. He was a weak link in the Jedi Order and a weaker one still as Sith. He was incapable of committing to either side fully. Killing him—was almost a mercy. Grieve him if you will, but don't expect me to lament his loss. He was nothing to me."

"Ares, I don't expect you to grieve for him. What I expect—what I _need_ is for you to understand that it hurts _me_. I can't take back what I did, as much as I wish I could."

"Even if you hadn't spoken to him, he would've died in the same manner. That wouldn't have changed."

"How can you be that way?"

The question fell unanswered between us.

Her anger bubbled up from within her like a natural spring, but instead of pursuing it, she instead threw her arms around my waist and buried her face against my back. I stood frozen in place, allowing her to cleave to me as if she were drowning. The embrace was an empty one but if my husk sufficed as comfort, then she was welcome to it.

"Don't you feel anything? No remorse or pity?" She pressed.

"I would be lying if I told you I felt that which I don't. I don't wish to lie to you."

"Damn you! Damn you to hell," she choked out between broken sobs. I pulled free of her arms and drew her into mine.

"Why does it hurt so much?" Her lips curled over clenched teeth and she raised her fist to pummel my chest, but the anger I sensed in her gave way to resignation. Her hand remained knotted in a pale fist but slid down my chest like broken eggs on glass.

I tightened my grip on her and held fast as she cursed me and herself and all that was Jedi and Sith. I petted her hair, slowly, deliberately and I felt her body grow limp. With very little effort I steered her toward the chesterfield and settled her before the fire.

We sat before the roaring flames. By the time she had no tears left, there were only smoking embers and a pair of persistent coals that stared out of the fire box with red unblinking eyes.

I stood and even though I didn't look at her, I knew her eyes were on my back, following my movements about the room.

"You used me and it was all for nothing. The agents are long gone, you have no leads," she whispered. "What now?"

"They'll reappear in time as they so often do after their bravado has returned. That is the way with them. They play their cat and mouse games until they're caught and executed."

The silence grew thick, each breath and minute like stone and mortar growing the wall between us.

"I've been thinking," she murmured. "You might be right about our having children. I couldn't stand it if I lost them. I see now how little life matters here. I wanted to believe things could be different, but I can't have a child in a place like this, not in good conscience."

Her words shocked me. I hadn't expected that she would give up something so important to her, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't relieved. "Is your change of heart because of this? Because of Rylister and Ravage's boy?"

"I'm not doing it out of some twisted need to hurt you. I just know I can't do this to myself. If _this_ is our life, then it's a life better lived without a child in it. The last thing I would ever want is a child that has Force gifts—to be sent off to that desolate hateful place. That would be a curse because I know how it would end."

I didn't know how to respond to that so I remained silent, content to allow each breath and moment to build.

She rose and strolled the room, as aimlessly as a ship with no rudder, fingertips trailing over the surfaces—she had nothing more to say to me, and yet she wouldn't leave either.

"Liaseph, there is something more you should know."

"What?" She froze and stared at me, her skin pale and her gaze uncertain.

"I'm returning to active duty."

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

"So soon? You're not recovered yet—surely the Empire can manage without you for a few more weeks."

"Liaseph—I've been cleared for duty. I want to return. There is much to be done. The Emperor demands to know what has become of the Dread Masters, the Jedi are up to something—one of them is missing, and I don't believe it to be happenstance."

"I don't want you to go."

"You have no say in the matter." I took her shoulders and gazed into her eyes. "That isn't meant to be cruel, it's only the truth. I think some time apart would do us good, for the time being. You need to grieve your loss and I don't wish to watch. I need an occupation."

"How long will you be away?"

"Perhaps a month, maybe two. I don't know. There are no guarantees, I _will_ return when I've completed my tour."

"Then why do I feel scared?"

"I don't know. I know it hasn't always been easy between us." I sighed heavily. "For what it's worth, I had hoped the business with Rylister would have turned out differently. I was prepared to honor the arrangement."

"I believe you," she whispered her gaze downcast. Her entire body quaked as she spoke.

"Good." I scanned the room, and the rooms visible through the archways beyond it and frowned. "I regret that you'll be lonely in my absence. Perhaps—acquire a servant or two, rather than these droids. They're efficient workers, but poor company. Have Imperial Intelligence vet your choices—Minder Xesh can assist you. You have access to my accounts—venture out into the city. See what delights Kaas City has to offer—perhaps make some new acquaintances."

"You're not leaving me, are you?"

"No. I'll return, assuming nothing happens to prevent it. I will be in touch when duty permits."

"I'd like that." She stole a glance up at me and smiled slightly. "If you're leaving tomorrow, then I wish to make sure this night is memorable. I'll see to dinner…"

"Of course."

She backed away from me slowly and was halfway across the room before she turned her back to me.

I took up the tumbler and drained the contents as if doing so marked the end of one era, and the beginning of the next.

((to be continued…))


	41. Chapter 41

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Forty~**

 _Character is defined by defying an order one knows to be wrong. Discipline is executing the order regardless._

The months passed, most of them spent in the galaxy's cold embrace over the loving arms at home. In truth, I no longer felt the difference. Both were duties I would never abandon.

The _Erinyes_ cut through the constellations of the _Emperor's Cloak_ and Dromund Kaas was behind me once more.

Duty was life, and mine had become a complex fugue of war, domesticity and the arcane, but it was the lattermost that demanded my attentions now. There were others better suited to the subtleties of the occult and yet I was chosen.

After the ship entered hyperspace, I returned to my sanctum. I couldn't abide the company of the crew, nor could I be completely at peace alone. Meditation did nothing, nor did consulting the fire or the darkness. My pulse pounded in my ears and my blood vessels carried the sensation of being packed with insects marching toward the madness in wait.

I re-examined my audience with the Emperor from every angle, but only one conclusion remained: There was nothing I could have done differently.

Declining the blood offering would have been treason. Though its purpose had been explained to me, I suspected there was more that I _wasn't_ told as is usually the case where the Emperor's whims are concerned.

I was no stranger to damnation—this was only the latest descent into a very deep pit. I removed my gauntlets and bracers and stared down at my wrists, fully expecting the veins in them to bubble and writhe, but they were the steady branching rivers they always were.

If I were changed, surely Liaseph would have noticed it; but she said nothing. Perhaps her anger toward the Emperor for demanding my extended tour blinded her. She hated being alone, and I was leaving again, this time for three-quarters of a year—my longest tour yet during our time together. She only wanted me and I gave her all that I was capable of, sealed with the promise that I would return. It wasn't enough, but it would need to suffice.

She was a distraction, one that had to be put out of mind. I focussed on the day I had met with the Emperor and relived each moment hoping for clarity or a solution.

* * *

It wasn't air I was breathing inside the Emperor's fortress but the residue of ghosts imprisoned by him millennia ago. Every breath brought visions of who they'd been in life and I became equally privy to the knowledge of Sith lord, farmer, and slave.

They were all prisoners crammed into this finite space. The memories of a common woman in the throes of birth touched my mind first, soon followed by the rejection of her child's red-skinned father. Most disconcerting of all was the newborn's horrifying awareness as remembered by both of his parents.

The name _Dramath_ came to me and vanished. Anger of the most stunning magnitude I'd ever known greeted me in this place. One taste invited me to feed upon it until I was glutted.

The sculpted panels on the doors leading to the throne room depicted mounds of writhing bodies, twisting in agony. The whispers of long dead betrayers, deceivers, and psychophants hissed in my ears and I knew lesser men would be driven mad by these.

The whispers grew in their demanding. They carried the same word on their ghostly lips— _Medriaas_. I did not know _then_ what it meant—only that it implied a terrible wrong—a mystery screaming to be solved and avenged.

In time, I would learn that it was _Nathema's_ true name and the gravity of the crime exacted against that world. I steeled myself to enter the throne room and when I glanced at the doors again, the carvings had stilled.

The doors swung open, issuing the only invitation I required. The scarlet-robed guardians fell upon one knee as I passed.

The torches did little to brighten the chamber. A great throne dominated the landscape, perched on high so that none who stood before it would dare question the authority of the man seated upon it.

To the right of the throne stood a red skinned pureblood, but before our eyes met in earnest, he vanished. The shadows spoke of what he was—he was the ancient ghost I'd heard about—the Emperor's executioner. I would not learn his name today; I would only feel his eyes following my every action.

I bowed before the Emperor. "You sent for me, my lord Emperor?"

"Rise." He waited until I stood before speaking. "The Republic and the Jedi spread lies across the galaxy. They insist that the Dread Masters are dead, but you and I both know they are very much alive."

"Their deaths would not pass unnoticed."

"And such is the arrogance of the Jedi—only they would be so foolish as to believe we would not sense the passing of our own. The Republic is _hiding_ them and I want them found and released."

"Have there been any leads? Is that why I've been summoned?"

"No, but I have something that will aid in your search." The Emperor nodded once and a pair of servants emerged from the shadows, carrying a tray with what appeared to be a branch sitting on it.

Upon closer inspection, the branch became a piece of hollowed out fulgurite filled with an inky liquid that could only be blood. There was nothing to do but accept the offering and I held the unusual vessel in both hands. "What is this?"

"The blood of the Dread Masters contained by their unified power."

"And what is to be done with it?"

"Drink. Their blood will mingle with your own—and you will become _the Dread Compass_."

"Why would you entrust your most valued generals to me? Surely their blood would serve you more efficiently given your bond with the Masters."

The Emperor laughed. "How diplomatic, Marr. I hadn't expected that from _you_. Are you asking me if it's poison?"

"The thought—had occurred to me given that you won't drink it yourself."

"Of all my councilors you have always been the most candid. But to answer your question, no, it is not poison but it will prevent you from binding your spirit to another body as Tulak Hord taught. Your life will be made all the more precious because it will be your _only_ life."

"Cheating death has never been my goal."

He leaned forward on his throne and stared at me like a gargoyle. I had offended him because _that_ was his only goal.

"Then drink."

I lifted the frontispiece of my mask enough to consume the blood. Stagnant and reeking of copper it trickled down my throat and I fought the urge to gag. Residue from the combined lightning strike that created the vessel coated my mouth with a sharp grit.

The blood of the Dread Masters mingled with my own and the darkness descended on the offering like starving tukatas at a trough. My blood vessels burned and bubbled and though my body wanted to indulge in a pained roar, my instincts told me to do so would mean death at that moment.

Perhaps I should have given myself over to it. Perhaps that had been my mistake.

A vision of each Master had appeared in my mind's eye—first Styrak, then Brontes and their leader Raptus and after them, Bestia, Tyrans, and the last to appear, Calphayus.

I dropped the fulgurite vessel, smashing it. My eyes burned and I wiped blood tears from my face before lowering my mask into place.

Their blood aligned in my body like an orienting arrow and I felt their presence across the galaxy in a world unknown to me. I would _always_ know where they were.

The Emperor stood and for a moment he appeared concerned as to whether or not I would survive the ordeal. I refused to give him the satisfaction of doubting me and I straightened and met his eyes.

"Is there anything else?"

His offense reared itself again when I refused to speak the honorific he enjoyed hearing. The defiance wasn't mine, it was _theirs_ and I understood they chafed under his leadership. They weren't his loyal servants—they were as all Sith are—vipers biding their time before striking.

The only quality setting them apart was their absolute devotion to each other. If one of them were to die, the rest would flounder and go mad. They would become chaos personified.

"No. Free the Dread Masters. Go," the Emperor croaked.

* * *

The memory came to an abrupt end. Lava had replaced the blood in my veins. The Masters were close by. I strode onto the bridge and ordered Admiral Vilks to drop out of hyperspace at the edge of the Outer Rim.

"Vilks, hold position here."

"Yes, my lord."

"Lieutenant Kayle. Ready my shuttle. Three days worth of provisioning should suffice."

"As you will, my lord."

((to be continued…))


	42. Chapter 42

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Forty-One~**

 _I make no apologies._

By the third day on the surface of the world I'd discovered, my blood ran as hot as the lava rivers splitting the land. The fever demanded that I travel northward. For better or worse, the blood of the Dread Masters drew me ever closer to their lair.

Sweat drenched the thermoweave aketon beneath my armor. With the lush green temperate zone behind me, I relished the colder clime ahead. The icy gusts of wind cooled my armor and acted as a balm against the Dread Fever, as I'd come to call it.

Acres of well-guarded enclosures and the populations contained within suggested a prison planet. The communications I'd intercepted confirmed my suspicions—the world, known as Belsavis, served as a super-max penitentiary for the Republic's most dangerous prisoners.

Even though I was curious about the prison and its inmates, I kept my distance to avoid detection.

The ancient Rakatan architecture in the mountains predated the prison facilities by millennia and reignited my childhood love of archaeology. The Rakata had abandoned this world or had been driven from it and I suspected the temples were filled with antiquities and technology beyond imagining.

The green weathered stone monoliths posed questions I longed to find the answers to. If I survived, I resolved to dispatch a reclamation team to explore the temples and the various devices inside.

As I neared the Dread Master's lair, I discovered Republic outposts populated by corpses. The bodies lay prone upon the ground and their positioning suggested they'd killed each other. I scavenged whatever I believed would be of use, stole a speeder and left the carnage behind.

By day, my challenges consisted of avoiding detection and survival, but night left me with fevered visions of the Dread Masters.

They came to me one by one, pale apparitions manifesting in the fire. The first to appear was their leader, Raptus. His voice and manner reminded me of Vowrawn, but his skill to induce nightmares and madness was akin to Ravage's. Raptus showed me the future—a future born of a wrath so fierce, all that remained of the galaxy were scorched worlds and charred corpses.

The next to appear was Bestia. Her calm arrogance reminded me of the young Lord Acina, who was well known at the citadel for her scheming to earn the Emperor's favour. Bestia's contribution was her pride—no one could best the Masters. Ruling was their right alone and not even the Emperor was so deserving.

Tyrans came next. He spoke in the same dangerous timbre as the Emperor did. He was the strategist in their number. His love of warfare could only be likened to lust and I saw myself in him. War was life and his final words could've been my own: 'Speak little, learn much.'

Brontes said nothing, but her vision spoke of gluttony. Their only interest was to feed their appetite for chaos until there was nothing left.

Styrak was the fuel, the strength behind their camarilla. He was a vain corrupter and deceiver and in him, I saw my master, Tulak Hord.

Calphayus, the weakest of the six, was the last to appear. He envied the other masters, but of all of them, he alone retained most of his humanity. He had a wife once, and her memory fuelled his torment.

He served as a dread prophet and through him, the revelations of the others were stitched together into a coherent tapestry—through them, all galaxies, all life, would cease to be.

Through the fire, I witnessed their designs for the galaxy. There was no loyalty in their hearts.

They would raze the entire galaxy given the chance and would make no distinction between enemy or ally. Through their blood, I saw the Empire reduced to ashes and her citizens driven to such depravity that death would be a mercy.

I saw Liaseph dead in our garden and the corpses of my associates mangled and strewn across Kaas City like refuse. Not even the jungle scavengers would survive.

The Dread Masters would mean the end of the Empire, a goal counteractive to my own. No matter what the Emperor's demands, I could not— _would_ not be the architect of the Empire's destruction. First and foremost I was her defender, and the burden of choice weighed upon me.

Releasing them guaranteed no favour. I was not above extermination. If I released them as the Emperor commanded, all would end. Our enemies would fall, but if sacrificing the Empire was the price to be paid, it was a price too dear.

If I refused to release them, my fate would be the same—but the galaxy—the Empire—would be spared—at least until such time as another fool was found to complete the errand.

Only one option remained. It germinated and took root in my mind. My blood burned through me as if reprimanding me for my treasonous intentions.

A half day's trek led me to a stone bridge joining the mainland to an island amid a sea of lava. At the center of the island stood a small temple, the entry guarded by monolithic Rakatan sentries. Their bulbous eyes were carved in such a way, that they seemed to track my movements.

The Republic assassin droids patrolling the island were easily dispatched. I crept into the temple foyer and took a moment to adjust to the dim light and the disorienting darkness seeping out of the temple like a beacon.

Between the heat rising from the surrounding lava and the blood compass locked in my veins, it felt as if my armor were gradually fusing to my body and crops of heat blisters rose and burst across my back and chest.

I summoned the darkness and felt it coil about me, inky and cool. The blood pulled me deeper into the temple until I located the cavern housing six suspension chambers. Each one contained a dread master trapped in a dream filled sleep.

I withdrew the first of a dozen thermal charges and applied the devices, two per suspension chamber. Each one seemed to weigh more than the last and my arms grew weak from the effort.

After taking a step back to admire my handy work, I calibrated the detonator. My mind throbbed and burned and my hands shook. A tremor shot through my legs to my hips and I caught the wall to steady myself.

Sharp stabbing pains lanced through every organ except the ticking heart that marked each moment as if it were oblivious to the doom ahead.

A presence manifested behind me. I whirled about, but fell against the wall, my thumb hovering over the detonator button.

"Don't be hasty now, Sith. Put that detonator down, I mean you no harm." He held his hands up in surrender even though he had the upper hand. The old man wore tattered sackcloth robes and a sizeable backpack-burdened his shoulders. A lightsaber dangled from his hip but he made no effort to draw it.

"If you've come to stop me…you _will_ fail."

"Brave words, well meant, but it is _you_ who will fail. Not because of me, but because of _them_ and the sickness polluting your body." The Jedi nodded toward the chambers holding the masters.

"Why didn't you execute them as you lead us to believe? Surely you don't believe they can be turned to the light?"

"I have no such belief. It wasn't my decision—the council believed it best to keep them in stasis here. How did you know they live?"

"Fool…the Emperor knows they live. We would have sensed their demise," I hissed through clenched teeth.

"And you were sent to free them. No need to answer, I can sense the truth of it."

"You know nothing, Jedi. I mean to kill them—not free them."

"You surprise me, I wouldn't have expected that from you."

I glared at the Jedi and cringed as lines of sweat snaked down my skin. "Leave."

"I would gladly leave, but it wouldn't be right to allow you to continue. They cannot be killed by ordinary means. One man alone will never manage it. Your bombs will only serve to free them—an outcome neither of us wants. Now put the detonator down…please. Let me help you."

"There is nothing to be done for me now. Leave, Jedi." I forced myself to stand straighter but doubled over. Before I could recover, the Jedi snatched the detonator away with the Force and disarmed it.

The indicator lights on the charges grew dark and the Jedi cast the broken switch into the corner. "Now, let me help you."

"Why? I have no fear of death."

"The Force directs me to help you, and I hope, in return, you will help us as well."

"Then you are a fool, Jedi. Nothing prevents me from killing you where you stand."

"Perhaps, perhaps not. But would you murder an innocent child?" The Jedi turned to reveal the contents of his pack—a sleeping infant no more than six months old.

"Are you mad? Why would you keep a child here?" I hissed.

"He's in my care now."

"What of the boy's mother?"

The old Jedi smiled wistfully. "She can no longer care for him."

I frowned. "Why do you stay? This is no place for an old man and an infant."

"The rescue team never came. I fear the worst has happened. Their reach," he eyed the Dread Masters once more, "extends beyond what any of us thought possible."

"How have you survived?"

"The Force protects us, but we can no longer remain."

"Your men are dead. The outpost is deserted."

"Then it is as I feared." The Jedi gestured to me to accompany him. "Come sit by the fire with me, and we can discuss what needs to be done."

I debated his offer and while the darkness goaded me to end him and the child, I refrained from doing so.

"Deceive me, and that will be the end of you both."

"I understand. Come. My chamber is small but warded, it should help your condition. Come, come."

I stumbled into the chamber and collapsed by the fire. The Masters' oppressive darkness prowled the perimeter of the room, but could not affect the interior.

"Perhaps it would be easier if we called each other by name. I am Zho. And you, Sith?"

"Marr."

"I've heard of you."

"Your name is familiar as well. You trained most of the Jedi sitting the current Council."

"Ah, yes, a long time ago, that was—but just as one never stops learning, one never stops teaching either." He looked meaningfully at the infant boy and settled next to him.

My attention fixed on the baby. "I sense no Force ability in him. He's an empty vessel."

"It doesn't matter. He's my responsibility regardless. Now how did you find us? Something was done to you…a ritual, yes?"

I hesitated, reluctant to tell the Jedi the truth and yet I sensed no deception in him and much to my chagrin, he was easy to converse with. "Yes. I ingested their blood—it works as a compass. Their combined blood brought me here."

Zho nodded and rubbed at his thin hoary beard. "It burns in you like a fever—and it will kill you if nothing is done. The one who did this to you would see you die, but there is a technique we could try. I learned it on Voss."

"What does it entail?"

"A crystal…meditation. You would meditate on the Masters and all you know about them and seal it within the crystal and then you would discard the crystal…perhaps in the lava outside."

"There is still the problem of the Masters. The Emperor will know they live…"

"Then a way to mask their existence must be found…until we know how to defeat them properly."

"If such a method even exists…" I muttered. "What is it you want in return?"

"Your help to reach the nearest populated base."

"I won't take you to a base—but there is another way."

"Then we have an agreement…I cure you of the fever and you help us leave here safely."

"You are a fool to trust me."

"I don't believe so. You are an honorable man—an exception of your kind. No darkness will hide that."

((to be continued…))


	43. Chapter 43

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Forty-Two~**

 _What are allies, but enemies with common goals and much to lose…_

On the cusp of waking, I became aware of the wind stealing between the cracks in the walls, the snap of a healthy fire and distant thunder. None of these things were enough to rouse me.

The stench of overcooked porridge assaulted my senses and to my surprise, my stomach responded with a hearty growl.

My awareness hovered between unformed dreams and the taunting of these mundane absolutes until a sudden and shrill siren blared around me and I was as alert as if the fire goddess herself had touched me.

Reflex provoked me to reach for my lightsaber, but I stayed my hand just as quickly. When the last vestiges of sleep cleared, it was not a siren but the mewling of a demanding infant.

"Enough!" I barked in the general direction of the tireless howling.

My focus sharpened and I spied the infant across from me, amber brown eyes wide and lower lip quivering.

"That's better."

Before I could take satisfaction in the fledgling silence, the boy took to wailing anew, this time with greater urgency and volume. I winced at the abject misery puckering the pudgy tear-stained face.

"Zho! Tend your damn youngling. Zho!" I bellowed, but only the echo of my voice answered.

The cries grew louder and more persistent.

"I don't think the Core worlds can hear you… _yet_."

If I didn't know better, I would have sworn the boy took my words as a challenge. The combination of numbness and pins and needles suggested I'd slept in the same position for too long. My body quaked as I pushed myself to stand on unsteady feet. The fever clung to me still and every platelet in my bloodstream urged me to leave, but I knew it would be folly to do so.

"Blasted Jedi." Bracing myself against the wall, I crossed the chamber, pausing only long enough to stir the thick paste bubbling in the pot. A crusty skin of burned porridge coated the bottom of the pot and I lifted it away from the tripod suspending it.

Steam puffed out of the blackened cauldron and the infant reached for me. His chest rose and fell in speedy bursts and I hoped he'd tired himself out.

I eased myself down to sit next to the child. "Perhaps if you'd been quieter your mother wouldn't have left you—and now you've driven the Jedi away too. What would you do, if I left as well?"

His expression suggested he understood me, but I knew that was impossible. Despite my harsh words, the boy calmed when I spoke. Perhaps the Jedi spoke to him to ward off the insanity that comes from being alone for too long.

He crawled closer and scampered onto my lap. His fat short fingers prowled over my armor and when his explorations bored him, he sank against me, a wriggling weight against my chest.

Gurgling sounds in his belly told me, he too hungered for the meager concoction Zho had left behind.

"Hungry, are you? So am I—but it's too hot to eat." I summoned the pot and the earthenware bowl and utensils to my side.

The boy watched the levitating items and waved his arms. "Entertaining is it? Hmph." I smirked under my mask and spooned out a mound of porridge into a dish and set it aside.

The infant squawked for the bowl and reached.

"No. Still too hot. We must wait."

A distraction was needed lest the boy grow more aware of his needs and cry out again. I levitated the spoon before his face, careful to keep it beyond his reach to make a game of it.

He grasped the other spoon in his hand and tossed it. It fell to the ground with a metallic clatter and he pouted.

"You want to see them dance, do you? Hmph." No sooner had I uttered the words, I willed the second utensil to join the first and the boy squealed with delight. The spoons kept a maddening orbit around each other and the boy wobbled, growing dizzy from his attempt to track them both.

I pitied the child—coveting a gift he would never have, despite the Jedi's hope otherwise. It wasn't impossible, but very unlikely. He lacked the shining thread of divinity that linked all Force users, but what he lacked in sacred ability he made up for with enthusiasm, and I pitied him all the more. The day he would learn the truth would be a painful one.

"They'll make no Jedi of you...but don't despair—their lives are drab. Who in their right mind would wish to live as a Jedi does?"

I hadn't expected an answer but received one anyway.

"Corrupting my charge, Marr? I haven't been gone a half hour," Zho replied good-naturedly as he re-entered the chamber.

"He's not worth my effort, Zho. Nor yours."

"I plan to give him time. The Force will find him and I will teach him all I can when it does."

"You're a foolish old man," I muttered and shook my head.

Zho set aside his satchel and fed the armload of twigs and sticks he'd gathered to the fire. "I prefer _patient_."

"Your certainty…makes me wonder who his parents are. Perhaps a pair of errant Jedi unable to adhere to your passionless dogma?"

"Nothing quite so romantic, I'm afraid—more of a matter of—practicality. His parents aren't suited to the task of raising him. Besides if his family were of real importance, would I have left him with you?"

The Jedi's reasoning made sense and though I sensed there was something he was holding back, I let the matter fall again.

The boy's interest strayed from our exchange back to the bowl of porridge. Without thinking, I stirred the cooled mush and offered it to the boy. He craned his neck like a baby Alderaanian night bird, devouring spoonful after spoonful.

"Tell me, Marr, do you have children of your own?" Zho collected a dishful of porridge for himself and sat across from us.

"No."

"Mmm, perhaps one day?"

I didn't respond and when the bowl had been scraped clean, I took what remained of the porridge from the pot for myself. "Your cooking skills leave much to be desired, Jedi."

Zho smirked and finished eating. "The fever—it still torments you, yes?"

"Less than before, but it remains." My gaze fell on his satchel. "You spoke of a ritual."

"That I did. And while I was gathering wood, a solution came to me about our predicament."

"I'm listening."

He dug into his satchel and withdrew seven milky white crystals, each of differing size and clarity. "I found these in my explorations. It seems the Rakata used them to fuel their gadgets—and if they can be used to fuel, they can also be used to contain."

"Explain."

"You will channel each of the Dread Master's energy into a crystal and trap it inside. This crystal," he said, holding up the largest, "This one, will be used to purge the effects of your poison fever and your connection to them. But for this to work, you will need to trap them _before_ you can cleanse yourself. I realize how this looks and what I'm asking of you, Marr."

"What makes you think, I have the strength to channel one, nevermind all six? Their ability surpasses my own even before their blood weakened me."

"That is why I will help you, by restricting the flow of their power to you, with my battle meditation. Rather than a river, their power will flow to you in a trickle. It will be time-consuming, but you should survive."

"Should…hmph." I examined the crystal—a tall hexagonal with several thready inclusions at its heart.

Zho collected the child and saw to his needs before dressing him in clean rags. The Jedi held the boy on his hip, swaying until the child dozed.

"And what of these crystals after the ritual? What will become of them? If the Emperor has an inkling of their existence, he _will_ seek them out."

"After the ritual, you will travel to Voss and seek the one called Mala-Ro. He's a powerful prophet, the most powerful the Voss have ever known—his ability to see into the future is second to none. Give him the crystals and he will conceal them. He will know. The seventh crystal—you will destroy it after the mission is complete. You will regain your strength and be free of the Dread Masters and their poison blood."

"And where do I find this prophet?"

"He's a recluse. Travel to the Dark Heart. All Voss know of it, and all avoid it. It is a haven for the mad and reckless. You will find Mala-Ro there—but know this, the Voss are wary of outsiders and most will be unwilling to help you."

"Perhaps I should take you as my hostage given your familiarity with the world and this prophet. If I go alone, they may decline to assist me. This is a matter of importance for both our governments."

"The Voss will not care if I am your hostage. I don't matter to them. You don't matter to them. We are outsiders—but I will take you to Mala-Ro, I promise you. I will meet you there in the Alien Enclave. From Voss, I will find my own way and return home with my charge."

"If we don't matter to the Voss, why would they assist us in concealing the crystals?"

"Because they understand evil—and its nature like few others."

"How do they know this?"

"They themselves, are plagued by an entity called Sel-Makor. It resides in the Dark Heart—Mala-Ro guards the gateway so that none will fall prey to its malevolence. If anyone can help us, it is Mala-Ro. He will know."

"It would seem we have few other options…shall we begin?"

"Allow me to make the preparations, Marr."

"Agreed."

((to be continued…))


	44. Chapter 44

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Forty-Three~**

 _It is possible to share ideals with an enemy._

The cavern floor was craggy and unyielding against my back. Zho passed his hands over my frame, the light side burning me from within as if I had passed through radiation. The darkness shunned the light at first but quickly rose up against it, in what was interpreted to be a war for control over my body, mind, and spirit.

My fever blazed higher as a third side to the war emerged—the polluted blood of the Dread Masters and the fulgarite's cyanide residue that threatened to kill me. Fuelled by the heat, the poison bloated my blood cells.

"How will this battle meditation of yours protect me?"

Zho opened his eyes and gazed down at me with the patronizing benevolence of a healer ministering to the dying. "Through me, your will to prevail over the Dread Masters will be multiplied and strengthened. So long as you are certain that you will win, you cannot lose. You must believe in your superiority over them and over the one that did this."

"You ask the impossible."

"No, Marr, I'm asking you to _believe_ —in yourself and in the outcome you desire. _That_ is the key."

"Easier said than done—there is a war raging—your light, my darkness and the power of the Masters."

"Then assign a vessel to each side—allow the light to guide your spirit, the darkness your mind, and leave the physical to the Masters. Your body is the weakest of the three."

"If I do that, I will die."

"If that is what you believe will happen, then that is what will happen. _Believe_ , Marr. It is imperative that you believe in your survival. You _can_ win. We will win. Together. You _must_ trust me."

"Hmph. Trust…" I mulled over Zho's instructions. Allowing myself to believe that I could control the whims and powers of the Dread Masters was the sort of profitless arrogance I had avoided my entire life. My grip tightened around the crystals until they ground against each other.

The battle meditation no longer burned and my limbs grew heavy. My eyes closed and with a final surge of light, my awareness became unburdened. Every worry and fear left me, and all that remained was my purpose and the blinding pulse of the light guiding it, willing it ever forward to meet the Masters.

The darkness settled over me like a mantle and my determination sharpened my focus until the awareness of my fevered body faded and with it the influence of the pollution in my blood.

There was peace in unity. There was no light or dark, there was only the Force and it demanded I rise and confront the Masters.

If I carried myself to the neighboring chamber, I did not know—it seemed an illusion rather than a mundane exercise. The temple was no longer the temple. The walls vanished or perhaps I passed through them like a specter, but I stood before the Masters and they stood before me. The bronze masks they wore appeared all the more fierce in the face of my defiance.

Mindful of the crystals in my hand, I separated the first from the lot and held it aloft with my right hand. I called to Calphayus, the most human—and the weakest. His aura detached and snaked toward me in a thin stream. As his essence flowed into the crystal, I saw what he had been.

Calphayus was the child of farmers. Instead of leaving his family behind, he murdered them and drew their essences inside himself and when Raptus tempted him with the glory of the Masters, he murdered his wife and children and gave himself wholly to the Dread Masters to become their prophet.

I felt his shame and guilt and then the maniacal glee that came with his new powers. His dead wife dogged him relentlessly and his guilt became the manacle binding him to the others. The milky clear crystal gave way to the cyan coloured energy that defined him.

Brontes came next. Her instinct led her to resist me, but having sensed the essence of her nature before, I appealed to her greed and gluttony, promising many a civilization ripe for torment. Her crystal glowed with a black and purple energy—a testament to her mastery over the dark side.

The glow in the first two crystals faded as their essence became dormant. My body gained in strength and Zho's influence filled the emptiness of the two inert Masters.

Bestia, like Brontes, resisted me and attempted to draw strength from Styrak.

I released the darkness, allowing it to gorge on Styrak's strength. With her power source depleted, Bestia crumbled.

My mind regained its edge and the vigorous clarity I'd taken for granted before the Emperor's ritual.

The next two crystals in my hand glowed—Bestia's—a bright red and Styrak's, a dull gold.

A deep sinister chuckle wormed its way into my mind and I recognized the will of Raptus.

' _Do you think I will be so easily defeated as my brothers and sisters? You are mistaken, Marr, as is the Jedi. I will relish destroying you both with my nightmares. Suffer!'_

My body convulsed and shuddered. An icy tempest whipped my body and I was forced to endure the pointless deaths of my adoptive parents—my mother's murder in the arms of another man as she paid in flesh for the opportunities bestowed upon me and then my father's execution for murders he did not commit.

Zho's light glowed brighter, tempering my anger.

The vision faded and Raptus pummelled my senses with a new nightmare—that which I feared above all things—the one thing I never spoke of or shared with anyone—not even Liaseph.

Old and decrepit I lay upon a bed, disease ravaging my body. Aches of every depth and persistence tormented my joints and if this were not enough, open oozing sores framed in putrid flesh glued me into the bedding. My legs wouldn't move and my fingers twitched with no purpose.

I had no concept of time—it mattered not if it were day or night or what season reigned. Nothing mattered. I was forgotten. I could no longer form the words to speak and when by some miracle I managed to begin, my words left me before I could say them.

 _What was my name? Who had I been?_ I couldn't remember and that made me no one.

Ruled by pain and loneliness—there was nothing of use to be done in my life and each day was spent waiting for death to carry me into the abyss. _Death is our solace._

Zho's focus fluctuated at the revelation of my deepest fear. A surge of pity and anguish replaced the light. I feared his empathy would be our undoing.

Raptus laughed maniacally and Tyrans, the strategist, stood at his side.

The battle meditation faltered and doubt seeped in. My nightmare faded long enough to glimpse Zho's fears.

His nightmare mirrored my own. Wizened with age, he outlived the younglings he'd trained.

He stood over their bodies as they fell over the years—first Syo Bakarn, then Jaric Kaedan, and Bela Kiwiiks the alien, and finally his favorite—the one with whom he formed the deepest bond—Satele Shan. He mourned her broken body wasting at the foot of some faraway cliff in another life.

Tears streamed from his eyes as he examined the deep lightsaber cuts bisecting her body. "The future—is always in motion," he murmured. His gaze shifted between me and the assailant's silhouette in his vision. For the briefest moment, I thought I detected hate in him.

Before the hatred could take root, his nightmare veered sharply away from the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order to the sleeping youngling by his side. The boy would be the last he trained and would be like a son to him. A wave of failure and misery welled up in Zho and the echo of my words tormented him.

' _You will make no Jedi of that one.'_ The words were mine but the voice belonged to Tyrans.

Silence passed between us and all was lost.

The Masters had _won_.

Tyrans's dread power—the death mark—formed and gathered momentum to wither our bodies. My skin tightened and grew dry, flakes of it swirling up before me. A vision of my body turning to ash and disintegrating in the wind ruled my awareness. The crystal traps vibrated and clinked together.

Zho staggered across the cavern toward the Masters. His meditation fluctuated around his body, mine, and the infant's.

He stopped less than an arm's length away from Raptus and Tyrans. Zho's bravado disquieted the most powerful of the Masters and the masked pair exchanged a glance.

Zho smiled and gazed fondly at the infant. "I believe in _him—_ andI believe in _myself._ " Zho turned to face me last. "And I believe in _you_ , Marr."

I sensed the foreboding pass between the two masters and smirked. "Zho is right. Your time here is finished. There is no place for you in this galaxy."

I thrust the final crystals toward Raptus and Tyrans. Raptus searched for more he could use against me and a new vision began to form—that of Liaseph.

"Not _her_ ," I growled and banished her image to the place in my mind where I keep my deepest secrets.

The darkness clamored for my anger and I allowed it, feeding it as the meditation grew in strength. Raptus and Tyrans's essence filtered into the Rakatan crystals until they were trapped. Raptus's energy glowed purple and Tyrans, a blend of black and white. Both crystals blinked and I feared that their resistance would allow them to break free.

The crystals grew still and faded as they became dormant. I crumbled to my knees and panted to catch my breath.

"Not to sound condescending, Marr, but well done. I _knew_ you could do it. Now, to contain the poison they left behind."

Zho levitated the seventh crystal over me. The poison residue and what remained of the Dread Masters lifted from my body in a sickly yellow fog and filled the crystal. The fever in my blood cooled and bit by bit, my strength returned.

"Marr are you all right?"

I nodded and gathered the dread crystals. After nestling them into my pack, I tested my grip and flexed my arms. I exhaled heavily and nodded. It was as though the episode with the Emperor and the Masters had never occurred.

Zho passed the impure crystal to me. "Take this…take it and destroy it. Make sure no crumb of it survives."

I took it and said nothing for a long time. Zho collected his mat and the various items he'd set out for the ritual, including a small brazier and the ashes of the herbs he'd crammed into it.

The boy slept in his basket and I shook my head incredulously, that he'd slept through it all, oblivious to the terror warring with us.

Zho poured water from his canteen into a metal cup and passed it to me. "Drink."

I turned away from him and drained the cup.

"I am curious about one thing, Marr—I saw a woman in your nightmare—your wife?"

"Not yet."

"I sense your impatience and I'm confused. You are impatient to return to her and yet you are just as impatient to leave her when you're with her. You're devoted, but you don't love. Would it not be wiser to let her go—it's no life for her."

"What do you know of these things, Jedi? Have you had a woman? Have you loved?" I hurled the empty cup at his pack and he packed it away with no reaction.

Zho didn't answer and I thought I had bested him, silenced him—and then he proved me wrong.

"I did once," he began. "I loved her fiercely and she loved me, but we both came to understand that it wasn't meant to be. I had sworn vows, given myself to the Jedi—I just hadn't realized until then, that I hadn't given myself to them _fully_. Because of her, I learned my greatest lesson—one that my Master could never teach me—and I finally understood what he meant when he said, 'some lessons you must learn on your own.' I believe it was my true trial as a Jedi, so perhaps, I understand a little." Zho smiled placidly and strapped the infant to his back.

The boy yawned, stretched, and returned to sleep.

"My life is my own business, not yours. No Jedi will tell me how to live." I stood and paced the chamber and found myself standing before the stasis containers holding the spiritless bodies of the hibernating Masters. I stood before each one and glared at their levitating forms inside.

I was certain of one truth: I never wanted to see any of them again.

"Forgive me, Marr. I've overstepped. Can't fault an old man for being curious…"

"What now?"

"Dispose of the contaminated crystal—I think the lava would be best. The heat will destroy the crystal and the sickness within. After, I would be most grateful if you returned us to civilization so that we can see about chartering a ship and then I will meet you on Voss, yes?"

"Agreed, but what of these husks?"

"I will have the Jedi Order move them further into the prison, where they will never be found."

" _Everything_ is eventually found," I grunted, but the Jedi paid me no mind.

After Zho collected the last of his things, we left the temple. As we crossed the thin land bridge over the lava, I tossed the crystal into the sun-gold magma and after a moment of reflection, I led the old man and the boy outside of what I guessed had been the shell of a once mighty volcano.

After taking my bearings, I revealed the stolen speeder I had secreted behind a mound of snow-covered stone.

"The speeder is fuelled and the saddle packs are filled with ration bars, a blaster, ammo, and the like. Set the navigation setting due south and you will find yourself at your base before nightfall."

"What about you, Marr? Surely you don't mean to hike all this way to who knows where?"

"I can manage."

"I'm sure you can." He smiled.

The boy snuffled in the cold, the winds ruffling the dark brown stripe of hair running the center of his scalp. He wriggled his arm free of his carrier and reached for me.

"Hmph. Mind your master, youngling."

"To Voss then."

"To Voss," I agreed.

Zho fired up the speeder and I watched the old man and his charge until they disappeared into the southern horizon.

I hailed the _Erinyes._ "Lieutenant Kayle, dispatch my shuttle to these co-ordinates. I'm finished here."

((to be continued…))


	45. Chapter 45

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Forty-Four~**

 _The cost of the truth is not always known._

The wind turned the trees from amber to silver and the air was peppered with the sharp tang of drying herbs swaying from the eaves.

A peculiar music wafted in the air alongside the spice—a lullaby played out by the reed flutes dangling over the doorways of every abode. For all appearances, it was a halcyon world, but it was just that, an appearance—a deceptive façade.

Voss was a world caught in perpetual autumn, teetering on the cusp between life and death. With the tea and wind chimes came the taint of living death rotting the world at its core. The sun's warmth wasn't enough to disguise the corruption, it touched every living thing.

I felt no kinship with the darkness here. It cared nothing for the beings peopling the lands, it only cared about its appetite. The consumptive nature of this presence reminded me of our ignoble Emperor and fed the first seeds of my contempt for him.

The day would come when I would need to face him again. I failed to deliver the Dread Masters and I survived the terrible fate he had designed for me. What would I say to him? What would he say to me? These questions weighed on me, despite my best efforts at focussing on the present.

I arrived a week ago with the assistance of Zho's acquaintances who secured the necessary permits and a small room above one of the tea houses. The Voss cared little for visitors and all were regarded with suspicion. None were permitted to leave the enclave to explore their capital, Voss-ka.

At Zho's suggestion, I donned plain hooded robes over my armor. He believed the Voss would be more inclined to assist the meek, but after observing these Voss, I came to the conclusion that the opposite was true.

There was a ruthless, calculating streak at the heart of these colourful people—kindly in appearance, but shrewd at their depths. Nothing was given freely. Everything came with a price. Credits were the frivolous tokens of the outsiders, as they called us, and were sufficient for mundane items, but the prizes of true value required a more _compelling_ currency.

The Voss had powerful enemies called the Gormak. Killing these enemies was one such currency. Outsiders were useful tools in their war, for the one thing the Voss believed above all else was that no harm should come to Voss, whether it was one man or their world. They wanted to be rid of their pests, but without injury to themselves.

In truth, I felt a greater affinity to the Gormak warriors than these gangly, cinder-eyed Voss who spoke in vague riddles and relied on their mystic's every judgment.

A rosy-faced female approached me. "Voss welcomes you, Outsider. I am Magra-Dai—are you the one seeking Master Zho?"

"I am."

"He awaits you inside and bids you join him for tea." She turned aside to indicate the domed structure behind her.

I inclined my head slightly, serving to both thank and dismiss her, and went inside the tea house.

Zho stood at the counter chatting amiably with the Master of Leaves about the various infusions they served.

I sat at a table at the rear with a clear view of the entrance. After placing his order, Zho sat across from me.

"I take it you arrived free of incident, Marr?"

"I was starting to wonder if you were coming."

"Apologies, I thought perhaps it was best that I see to the safety of my charge before joining you. I'm sure you'll agree travel with an infant is challenging at best."

"Agreed. This prophet you spoke of, Mala-Ro, is he far?"

"No more than half-a-day."

Magra-Dai set a pot of tea between us along with two cups and a small basket. "Master Zho. I have prepared food and drink for your journey. Be well. I hope you and your friend find the tea pleasing."

Zho steepled his hands and bowed his head reverently. "Thank you Magra-Dai, your kindness is appreciated."

She lingered a moment longer and finally understood nothing more was needed except her absence. Once behind the counter, she turned her attention to arranging the tiny bowl-like cups on a tray.

I ignored the tea and rolled my hand dismissively. "I would prefer to get this over with."

"Where is your sense of adventure? You can't leave without sampling the tea."

"By the smell of it, I think I could."

Zho chuckled and poured. "Drink up, Marr. You'll find it fortifying and invigorating. The countryside is teeming with wildlife and none of it friendly."

"Neither is my lightsaber," I deadpanned.

Zho pushed the cup toward me and sipped from his own.

"I'm beginning to wish I'd taken my chances with the Masters," I grunted and tipped my mask up just enough to take the tea.

"Well?"

"I've had worse."

"At least it's not the blood of the Masters, eh?"

"I suppose you have a point." I drained the cup and pushed it aside. "How are we getting there?"

"We'll take the skyhopper to The Overlook. Once we're there, we'll have to see about speeders. It's not far—normally, I wouldn't mind walking but here, it's best we don't linger in one place for too long."

After Zho finished his tea, we boarded the shuttle bound for The Overlook. Zho curled into himself and napped for most of the trip. I tolerated the curious stares of the other passengers and I sank into thought, strategizing on how to approach the Emperor regarding my 'failure' when I returned to the Empire. There was no avoiding fate, but I would determine how I would meet it.

The vessel touched down, its landing gear stuttering across the stone pavers. The boarding ramp dropped and with a final lurch, the skyhopper powered down.

We were the first to disembark and while we took in our surroundings, the other passengers, mostly tradesmen, vanished inside the nearly completed buildings. The Overlook was a new outpost still under construction. The shells of the stone buildings were mostly complete, leaving only the interiors to finish.

A marketplace started to sprout on the far side of the town square and above it was a knoll with a spiraling path leading to a small palace at the summit.

"What's up there?"

"Last I heard, it was to be a visitor's center."

"I didn't think they encouraged tourism. These people are borderline xenophobic."

"They're an ancient culture, Marr. They've been alone for a very long time, but they've come to realize that will not be the case in the coming years. The Three have foreseen the arrival of many new people, so they prepare."

"The Three? Their government?"

"Yes, in a manner of speaking. They're prophets and guide the people here."

"Why is Mala-Ro not with them—if he is such a powerful mystic?"

"Because his purpose is to guard the Dark Heart."

"Don't insult me, Zho. There is more to it, I sense it."

"Well, I suppose, it's because he's different. I understand from the old texts that there is a maze here, below ground to confuse and contain the entity I spoke of. Surely you've sensed it."

"I have."

"Mala-Ro is the only Voss who knows the maze—so he cursed it—so that he could never leave."

"Why?"

"For fear that the entity would follow him out and destroy the world. I've also heard that the entity keeps him alive."

"Mala-Ro is immortal?"

"In a sense. The entity will not allow him to die."

"How old is Mala-Ro?"

Zho stroked his beard thoughtfully. "No one knows. I suppose you could ask him when you see him if it matters that much to you."

"If the prophet is trapped in this maze and cannot leave, what's to keep him or this entity from imprisoning us?"

"Not _us_. That is why we must part ways, Marr."

"That would be quite a coup for you Jedi. Do you really believe me such a fool that I would willingly enter a trap?"

"Not at all, Marr." He bowed his head and removed an amulet secreted beneath his robes. "In order to visit the Dark Heart, you require The Pendant of Bone, _this_ pendant. It will protect you from the entity and the madness it brings. It's the key. It will also allow you to travel the maze undetected, so you will be able to leave The Hall of the Unforgotten when you wish."

Zho passed me the amulet and I considered the unusually crafted pendant before putting it on.

"Shall we be on our way then? We can lease speeders over there in that market."

"What about you—traveling without the pendant—will it not affect you?"

"I'm touched by your concern, Marr. Thank you for that, but no—as I said it's not far. I'll show you to the door and be on my way, as we agreed. Let's go."

I acquiesced silently and followed him to the market.

We sped toward the Dark Heart and as we neared, the majestic, oversized trees became corrupted—twisting in on themselves, their roots pulling free of the soil as if they wanted to escape the lands. The bark was black and moist and though the trees lived, there were no shivering amber-red leaves here, only the hungering darkness.

Even the rocks had sprouted across the terrain like jaws waiting to snap. Everything within the Dark Heart seemed to be designed to contain whatever had entered and was every bit the prison that Belsavis was.

Packs of wild beasts fed on the sickly grass and leapt snarling at us as we passed overhead.

Zho slowed and came to a stop before what appeared to be a cave at first, but upon closer inspection was the base of a mangled tree. A pile of sun-bleached bones marked the entry.

"This is it, Marr. This is where I leave you." He dismounted his speeder and approached me. "Take the food."

I took the parcel Magra-Dai had prepared and stowed it into my pack.

"I wish you well, Marr. I would call you my friend, but I know this changes nothing between our people." He offered his hand to me and with some reluctance I took it.

"No, I suppose it doesn't," I said quietly as I released his hand.

"Safe travels. It's been—an adventure," Zho said good-naturedly. "Oh, before I go, I do ask one favor, that you leave that pendant with one of the Voss at The Overlook before you return home. It was never mine to give, it is of Voss, as they'd say."

I nodded and watched him mount his speeder. After he'd disappeared over the horizon, I entered the peculiar tree-cave.

Inside, I passed by those that had gone before—some were no more than a pile of bones and rotting flesh while others, still alive, muttered to themselves as they hurtled toward the same fate as the dead.

They paid me no mind and I passed by them. The winding corridor opened into an alcove marked by Voss sculptures and stone tablets containing engraved passages, that suggested I had arrived at the gateway of the underground temple.

I felt a presence behind me and before I could confront it, it spoke.

"So you've arrived, at last, Outsider."

"Mala-Ro? I assume Master Zho informed you of my arrival somehow?"

"I am Mala-Ro, but no one informed me of anything. I foresaw your coming an age ago and I welcome you."

"Most here are anything but welcoming to outsiders."

"This is true, but you are unique. Through you, comes liberation." He closed the distance between us until there was little more than an uncomfortably intimate space between us and though I was tempted to step back, I held my ground.

"You cannot enter until you have received the Blessing of Oneness." He clamped his hands to each side of my mask and held my face. He muttered in a tongue I didn't understand and when he finished, a bright aura of energy surrounded me and then faded. "Now, you may enter as Voss and we will speak."

He led me into the innermost sanctum of the underground temple and indicated I sit across from him. Gleaming gold and green cubes that could have only been holocrons lined the shelves behind him.

"You have secrets, Outsider. Many, many secrets—one of which you seek my assistance in keeping. Show me."

"You've foreseen this…you know what I'd ask of you…the risks," I murmured, dumbfounded by his candor.

"What you ask of me, is the key to my liberation. There is no risk, only what lies ahead."

"Explain?" I unwrapped the six crystals and fanned them before him.

"You see death as your solace. Voss is not so different, death is freedom."

"You've been here a long time…how old are you?"

"What can be forgotten matters not. Age is nothing. I am here, you are here, and your desire is that I unburden you."

"Yes. But I don't understand what you meant about your liberation and why I am the cause of it. I need answers."

"One answer costs another."

"Then name your price."

"The Outsider is impatient for a liberator and your impatience will lead to your downfall."

"These riddles of yours—"

"—Are a means of learning more about those who come to Voss. You speak of prices, but Voss does not know what that is, Outsider."

I frowned. "You said, one answer costs another. What is the cost? To the Sith, cost equals price."

"You must agree when the time comes."

"Agree to what? And when? I'll strike no vague bargain."

Mala-Ro's slate blue face pinched and the glowing coals that were his eyes sparked. He rose and lit a brazier and threw several twisting branches upon it. "Breathe and walk with Voss."

I rose and he waved me back into my seat. "You do not need to rise to walk."

The burning wood filled the chamber with the smell of wood rotting in moist loam. The aroma appealed to me and I breathed deeply.

The mundane faded around us and was soon replaced by the same world, only constructed of light. My mind swam and my eyes stung as they readjusted to the luminous yellow vision.

"Now you walk with the prophets, you see as Voss sees."

Mala-Ro carried the crystals bunched in one hand as though they were little more than trash to be disposed of. I followed him to a great chasm and he cast the crystals into the darkness.

The ground shook under our feet and a deafening roar echoed around us. Denied the crystals, the entity raged for what it perceived as its due.

Mala-Ro mumbled chants under his breath and peered into the chasm. The entity grumbled like a spoiled child and the prophet turned his back to it.

I cast a wary gaze toward the chasm. "This entity, this is what you call Sel Mak—"

"—Do not speak its name. Come." Mala-Ro led me to an ante-chamber and knelt before the pyre there. I followed suit and watched the golden-yellow flames wriggle before us.

"You have a mystic's sight, Outsider—but you do not trust your visions."

"Not everything I see comes to pass."

"Perhaps it does not pass as you would expect. A mystics sees but does not interpret. Look at the flames as you would, Outsider, and share your visions with me."

I meditated on Mala-Ro's words and to learn the answers, I gazed into the flames. The visions in this plane moved so quickly the details blurred and I could not decipher who or what I was seeing.

"What do you see?"

"I don't know…"

The Voss grunted as if annoyed and peered into the vision. "From your kind, a great deceiver will emerge. He desires to speak for the one that rules you—the one whose errand brought you to Voss. The deceiver will lure the true voice here to take my body so that he may rule instead."

"And you would have me stop this deceiver—prevent the true voice from possessing you?"

"No. With his entrapment, comes my freedom. My essence will be freed—my guardianship will finally end."

"And what of the true voice…it will become trapped here in your stead? Unable to leave?"

Mala-Ro nodded.

"What will this deceiver use to bait him with?"

"That which you brought to me today."

"Will his power reach beyond the confines of this place?" My mind raced with possibilities and my future seemed less bleak.

"No, he will be bound here until the evil that protects this body can be subdued."

"Who would have the power to subdue the entity?"

"It will be one of your own."

"Subdue…not destroy?"

Mala-Ro shook his head. "The Destroyer will come through _you_ but will not be one of you. Our corruptions will be destroyed utterly—in body, voice, and spirit."

"What does that mean? Are you saying there will be a traitor?"

"It means, what it means. If you do not know the answer, then the time is not at hand for you to know. So impatient, Outsider. Do not expect destruction to take root quickly. It will take time. The Destroyer will understand."

I sighed heavily and stood to pace the golden plane.

"This troubles you," Mala-Ro murmured.

"It troubles me, because of its ambiguity. I don't understand your interpretation. It's too vague. I need _more_. What would you have me do?"

"There is nothing to be done. There is no more to be said. I have interpreted your vision, understanding will come later."

The golden realm faded and we were returned to the ante-chamber. I spread my hands, marveling that we had not moved from our seats at the table. My head throbbed and my eyes stung and watered under my mask.

Mala-Ro wavered and clung to the table. "I have taken your burden as my own. You must go now, do not look back on Voss."

I collected my pack and exited the cave. If nothing else, I had much to think about. I mounted the speeder and raced toward The Outlook, eager to return the pendant and leave Voss behind me.

((to be continued…))


	46. Chapter 46

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Forty-Five~**

 _To the riddles, the answers begin._

In the month that followed my departure from Voss, I traveled to the Sullestan homeworld on the Outer Rim to respond to a distress call issued by the newly instated governor, Moff Xerxian.

Within the first three months of Xerxian's term, protests grew into uprisings and eventually into full-scale rebellion.

I discovered upon my arrival that many of our forces had deserted the Empire to fight alongside the Sullistan people—an unusual and unlikely turn of events I hadn't expected.

What would force our men to desert and take up the Sullestan cause?

I would learn the answer after a fortnight of hard battle in Sullest's subterranean districts. Denied food, clean water, and medicine by the new governor, Sullest rebelled. I soon learned that Xerxian's corruption extended beyond depriving the native populace to include the military as well.

The quartermasters confirmed that all supplies issued by the Empire had been rerouted to Xerxian's personal stores. After cherry-picking the inventory, he auctioned the rest to the highest bidders—mostly crime syndicates and Hutts.

Xerxian railed against my interference and I sentenced him to the full might of the darkness at my disposal.

As I suspected, he lasted only minutes after I took my leave. His suicide note credited me with his madness and torment—the details vague enough that they would spin stories into legend.

I abhor such gossip but must acquiesce, these tales were not entirely without benefit. They fed the darkness a steady meal of fear and dread and my power magnified. Only a vestige of the man I once was remained—a thread I buried deep in the light—for that was the one place the darkness would not go.

A nervous lieutenant approached me as I started for my shuttle. "My Lord? What is to be done with the deserters?"

"Execute them all," I barked in passing, so ending my time on Sullust.

* * *

What seemed like days had unwittingly grown into months—my tour, finally at an end. A sense of foreboding loomed over me and I knew my life would be changed forever.

"Admiral Vilks—set a course for Dromund Kaas."

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

I retired to my quarters and stood before the brazier but the flames yielded no answers. The intercom chimed, breaking my focus.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"My lord, a message from the Emperor's Fortress," Kayle announced, voice quivering.

"Put it through."

"At once, my lord."

The image of the Emperor's black-cloaked messenger flickered over the holo-console. "Marr. You are to report to our Master at his fortress, immediately upon your return."

"Understood."

The messenger vanished in the midst of my acknowledgment and I knew the time of reckoning had arrived.

The Emperor was undoubtedly aware that I still lived. I had failed to deliver his generals to freedom and now I stood at the corner of the chessboard, every avenue blocked by inevitability.

My thoughts turned to Liaseph. Without my protection, her position within the Empire would be compromised and I loathed the parasites and scoundrels that would attempt to exploit her. I finalized my arrangements with the Intergalactic Banking Clan so that none could challenge or seize her inheritance. Prior to my audience with the Emperor, I would set them in motion.

Through the viewport, the diminishing black-blue tangle of hyperspace heralded our arrival home.

The _Erinyes_ moored above Kaas City for refueling and crew rotation and I shuttled to the surface without a word to anyone.

I dreaded the conversation with Liaseph—months had passed without so much as a word between us and now, upon my return, instead of endearments there would warnings and the urgent plea that she leave Imperial space for all time. She would suffer, and though I was no longer capable of sharing in her emotions, I still wished to spare her.

The hope that she had realized her folly and returned to Alderaan in my absence germinated alongside the last thread of humanity I still possessed.

The shuttle alighted on the landing pad just outside the garden. Rather than the usual jubilant welcome, I was met with silence and the sensation that something wasn't right.

"Liaseph!" I called out as I searched the rooms she tended to favor. Every room was empty and no reply came.

The protocol droid emerged from the library with a clatter. "Master—you've returned. Welcome home."

"Where's your mistress?"

"She's not here, Master."

"I can see that, droid. _Where_ is she?"

"Her handmaiden took her to the hospital?"

"Handmaiden? Why? What happened?"

"The lady hired a handmaiden as you suggested, Master—but I dare say she's more of a companion than a maid."

"You test the limits of my patience, droid. Why is the lady in the hospital? Is she ill?"

"Why to give birth, Master."

"She was pregnant? Why wasn't I notified?"

"Apologies, Master. The lady ordered us not to. She hasn't been herself."

"When was she admitted? What of the child?"

"Three weeks ago—regrettably that is all I know, Master. The hospital will not release information to anyone but family."

I sprinted out of the house, the droid trailing after me, still spouting its mindless prattle.

With barely a thought, I boarded the shuttle and flew back to the city.

At the hospital, I made my inquiries at the nursing station, but before I could take my leave, I was met by the attending physician.

"Lord Marr, this is an honor."

"Kindly dispense with the pleasantries. I require information—Lady Liaseph Teraan—what is her condition and the condition of her child? I wish to see them."

The physician blanched and swallowed hard. "Lady Teraan is struggling with post-partum depression—she's rejecting the infant—she won't look at the child or feed it. We decided that it's best to keep them both here until a member of the family comes forward to assist with the decision making process. My lord, forgive me, but—are _you_ family?"

"I'm the child's father."

"I understand, my lord. Rest assured we respect the confidentiality of all our patients and their families."

"I wish to see the child."

"Of course, my lord, right this way."

The physician led me to a private nursery and collected the sleeping infant from the bassinet. My gaze followed and judged his every movement.

"Congratulations, my lord, you have a daughter," he murmured as he shifted the bundle into my arms.

She weighed nothing and was paler than I would have expected. Coils of fine brown hair peeked from under the white knitted cap warming her head. Wispy eyebrows furrowed together as if her dreams demanded serious decisions from her already.

"Is she healthy?" Her right hand curled about my index finger, clasping it tightly.

"Yes, considering the delay in nourishment, she's doing very well. She's taken to the formula and between our staff and Lady Teraan's handmaiden, we've ensured that she receives adequate care and attention. Lady Teraan is in the adjoining room." The physician indicated the door bordering the rooms. "We attempt to create a connection between them each day, but so far, we've been unsuccessful, my lord."

"I need a moment."

"Of course, my lord. If you have any further questions, please don't hesitate to ask."

The physician left and I sat with my daughter nestled in my arms. _My daughter, my child_ —the words, the idea—the guardianship that came with being a father were foreign to me. I had fathered this child and she was mine, I reaffirmed.

With a gentleness I'd never believed I was capable of, I shifted her in my arms and she opened her eyes. The stern expression remained as she looked up at me—her eyes wide and the colour of my own.

At that moment, I sensed her connection to the Force and the silvery thread connecting us. She was mine and I was hers, and from this time forward she was the heart I no longer had. I swore my devotion to this tiny being above all others and for the first time in decades, I wept.

((to be continued…))


	47. Chapter 47

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Forty-Six~**

 _If the Force has a plan, I am too close to see it._

My daughter fell asleep in my arms and after settling her into the hospital bassinet, I turned away from her with some reluctance to confront her mother.

The gentleness the child had elicited from me faded and what remained bordered between anger and contempt. I failed to understand how it was possible for a mother to reject her own child—our child. I thought of the son we had lost and the depth of her torment over that loss and wondered how she could spurn the girl this way. Perhaps in rejecting her, she was rejecting me.

I stopped thinking of the infant as hers or ours but as mine alone. My child deserved a mother's devotion and doting. My fist curled at my side and my jaw clenched, disgust churning in my belly.

I marched across the threshold dividing the two rooms, as if on my way to a war room, but before I could give voice to my anger and disappointment I froze at the sight of the diminutive body curled into itself under the covers.

Even in the dim light, I could see her face was drawn and pale as powder and the shiny hair she kept so elegantly coiffed, lay flat and dull as straw against the pillow.

She appeared a wraith and the bony hands clutching the blanket close to her body, served to impress upon me how much she had deteriorated in my absence. I was looking at a stranger.

I don't remember how long I'd stood there before closing the distance between us, or speaking. I sat at her bedside and removed my gauntlets, setting them aside before laying my hand over hers.

She flinched but didn't open her eyes. The salty tracks crusted on her cheeks told me she'd cried herself to sleep.

"Liaseph," I whispered. I hunched over her and ran the backs of my fingers against her cheek. "I've returned. I'm here now."

Her eyes opened, long enough to know they'd registered what she'd seen before closing them again. New tears beaded under her lashes. "Ares…"

"Why didn't you tell me about the child?"

She sniffled and fixed me with a weary glance. "Why? What difference would it have made? It's not as if you'd come racing home."

I sighed and lowered my head. She had a point. It would've changed nothing and arguing to insist otherwise would have been a waste of energy. It would have been a lie.

"That's what I thought," she said bitterly. "You can't even take off that—that _mask_ to talk to me properly."

"If that's what you want," I snapped and removed the mask.

Her eyes widened and I sensed her horror. "What happened to you? Your eyes—your face—you look like you've aged a decade. It's like looking at a stranger." She reached out to me, but before I felt the warmth of her touch, she recoiled. Her lower lip trembled and she clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle her alarm.

"I fell ill for a time. This—what you see—is the cost of the power I required to overcome it—to survive."

"I don't understand," she gasped.

"None of it matters now. If this makes you uncomfortable, I can—" I reached for the mask, but she stayed my hand.

"No…don't. Forgive me, it's just—I wasn't expecting this." She swiped at her tears and glanced away to collect herself.

"You find me repulsive…"

"No," she breathed. "Just different."

"You may have grown to despise me but to take it out on our daughter—she needs you."

"Is that what you think? That I'm doing this to her on purpose? That I'm doing it to punish you?"

"I don't know what to think, Liaseph. Why don't you enlighten me."

"I don't _know_ why. I just can't…I can't be a mother to her."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm _not_ lying."

"If you would only look at her. She's beautiful—so much like you."

"She's nothing like me," she snapped. "She's like _you_. I could tell—just by how the healers reacted to her."

"What do you mean?"

Liaseph snorted. "Before anything else—one of them said she's Force sensitive like it's some kind of prize. They have _no_ idea." Her eyes flashed and her mouth tightened into a thin line.

"Where's this anger coming from…do you hate me so much?"

"You don't understand. How could you? I've never _stopped_ loving you—but I'm afraid what it would mean to love _her_."

"You don't wish to become attached because you're afraid of losing her—that she'll die at the academy."

"I couldn't stand it if she did. It's bad enough when _you_ go away. You were sick—you could've died, I'd never know. I couldn't deal with losing you both." She sucked in a staggered breath and the tears came again. "I can't help it, it's all I think about and I can't stand it. I couldn't even save her if I tried. I'm nothing. I can't even protect my own child. Don't you see?" She gasped. "I'm too weak and you're never here."

"I told you it would never be easy between us. You knew my responsibilities and yet you insisted on being with me anyway. But know this—I will always be grateful that you made the effort. I _do_ love you."

I hoped that she wouldn't sense the hollowness of the words—the sentiment was sincere, even if it lacked the emotion to give it weight and substance.

"How could you love me? How can I expect you to love _me_ after everything."

"Liaseph, I _do_ love you and I carry you with me always. You give meaning to all I do. You and our daughter both. Will you not—at least—look at her—hold her?"

"I'm not doing it on purpose, don't you understand? I can't be a mother to her. I'm not good enough. I'm weak. You're never here and the nightmares never stop…"

I narrowed my eyes. "What nightmares?"

Her cheeks flushed and she turned her head away.

"Look at me. What nightmares? Tell me. Is this more to do with that confounded room?"

She sobbed. "I can't…I'm ashamed."

"What are you ashamed of?"

"You won't forgive me."

"Tell me and I will tell you if I can forgive it—but neither of us can exist this way."

"I spoke to that spirit in my dreams…your ancestor. I was lonely, I just wanted someone to talk to. I welcomed him."

Her words chilled me and I sat stock straight. If it were possible for my blood to crystallize, it would have.

"Tell me, very precisely what happened in these _dreams_."

"We would talk mostly and he'd show me things, take me places I never dreamed could exist—he was kind to me. He reminded me of you when we were on Alderaan. When I learned I was pregnant—he was the first one I told—I wanted it to be you. He asked me if I was happy and I told him I wasn't. He asked what he could do to help me—and I told him, that I wished that our child would have no Force powers because I didn't want her to die. What I really wanted was you. I missed you so much.

"He said that he wouldn't take her powers away, but that he would magnify them so that I wouldn't have to be afraid of losing her. He said—that he'd keep her safe."

I sighed and shook my head, the anger building. "You made a bargain with him. Do you have any inkling of what you've done?"

"What are you talking about? Why are you angry? They were just dreams, it's not real. I was lonely…the dreams helped me cope."

"I'm angry because you've damned yourself. It _is_ real, as real as you and I in this room, at this very moment. Did I not warn you? What do you think drives my power? Bargains such as these and the lost souls who made them. What did he want in return? What did you promise him?"

"Nothing!"

"Liaseph… _what_ did you promise him?"

"That's why he won't leave me alone, I promised nothing—it wasn't what I wanted. I didn't want her to be Force sensitive."

"So—he's looking to collect something in return for his boon."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she murmured sobbing into her hands.

"As if I didn't have enough to contend with," I snarled.

"What are you talking about?"

"The Emperor has summoned me—I defied him…I failed him. I failed the Emperor, Liaseph. Do you know what that means?"

"You don't expect to survive…do you?"

"No. But now it seems I must—if not for you, then for our daughter."

"Let's get away from this place…we'll leave, never come back."

"There is no place to hide. I will _not_ hide."

"Don't go, _please_." She clasped my hand and held it with surprising strength. I pulled free.

"I must. I had hoped to carry the memory of you and our child with me…"

Liaseph held herself and stared straight ahead, her body shaking. "What are we going to do?"

"Survive." I snatched up my mask and gauntlets and swept out of the room, pushing past her Twi'lek handmaiden as she returned. The servant's profuse apologies followed me like ghosts down the hall.

With barely a thought, I found myself in the cockpit of my shuttle. Minutes later, I strode into our home and found myself in the temple she had duplicated for me from her dreams.

"She's mine!" I bellowed. The shadows wriggled in the chamber. "Mark my words, you will leave us be, or I _will_ expel you to the void. She owes you _nothing_. You will not interfere with us!"

The darkness thickened in one corner and formed into a man. "Did she believe her company was enough? That the sight of her naked on my altar was enough? That the warmth of her mortal flesh was enough to thaw my ectoplasm?" Hord laughed and the shadows defined themselves more fully until I could see the lines of his armor.

I paced, seething until only the altar stood between myself and the apparition. "The child…is she mine? Is she _my_ daughter? Or yours."

"You know the answer to that as well as I do."

"Speak plainly!" I growled and overturned the stone altar, breaking the surface slab into three pieces. "Is the child mine?"

"Of course she is…I only made it possible for the materials to unite. You mortals and your contraceptives—believing you can defy the divine."

"Enough! You have no claim on her—be gone!"

"And what if I'm inclined to continue my nightly visitations? What would you do to keep me out of her dreams? What would you give?"

"I would give you nothing. I will find the means to erase you from every realm. The Force will not save you from my wrath."

"Bold words Ares—but the blood that unites our family will ensure that I am never far."

"Is that a threat? You dare?"

"No—a truth, even if it pains you to acknowledge it." The spirit faded, leaving me before the ruined altar.

I roared and summoned the Force to express the full scope of my rage. When I finished, the temple had been reduced to crumbs and I marched through the clouds of settling dust.

The idiot protocol droid dared to peer into the ruined chamber and stammer at me.

I stalked past the rambling droid. "Clean this up," I barked on my way to the shuttle.

* * *

Two hours later, I drifted into the shuttle bay of the Emperor's Fortress. The force field was an emerald flash sealing me inside.

The bay was conspicuously empty, void of technicians, troops or personnel. The sweet fruity smell of space still clinging to the ship wafted around me as I disembarked.

The corridors were just as empty as the shuttle bay. There were no ghosts or specters seeking to impart their torments upon me this time, nor were any of the scarlet-robed guardians present.

I reached out with the Force and felt nothing. I was truly and utterly alone.

If I'd been concerned with all I'd felt and seen here before, I was doubly worried by the lack of it now. It was as if every presence had been devoured or ejected into space.

The fortress creaked and groaned like a long forgotten derelict vessel straddling the furthest reaches of space. I sensed no orbit or movement. The ship hung in space like a spider dangling over its web and I inched ever closer to its ropy trap.

As I neared the Emperor's sanctum, I sensed two beings—their signatures within the Force unmistakeable—the Executioner and the Emperor himself.

The doors swung open and I marched inside with no hesitation. I paused at the base of the throne and took a knee. I bowed my head but kept my gaze fixed on the step before me. "My Lord Emperor."

"You look— _well_. Rise." the Emperor remarked as if it were a casual observation. I knew it was much more than that.

I stood and clasped my hands behind my back.

"You've come to face me alone."

"I have."

"What of the Dread Masters? I had expected that they would join me here, and yet they have not. Why?"

"They are not as you remember them—they've been _altered_. I located their husks on the Republic prison world of Belsavis, on the Outer Rim. Releasing them from suspended animation would have resulted in their immediate demise. I have not been able to ascertain what the Republic has done, but they are no longer of any use to you."

"Explain. They're alive?"

"While their bodies live—their spirits have been emancipated in some way."

"It is not like the Jedi to practice such dark rituals."

"That was my thought as well."

"What do you make of this? Why allow the bodies to live in captivity, what is the purpose of this?"

"Perhaps a means of harnessing the power of the Dread Masters has been discovered and their essences are kept elsewhere. It's entirely possible that the Republic and the Jedi are unaware of this alteration. There could be another force at work."

"An interesting theory." The Emperor shifted his weight upon the throne and glared down at me hawkishly. "I was told that you visited a world bordering Hutt space. Why?"

"The Voss. I traveled there in the hopes of learning the fate of the Dread Masters."

"Why would they know? Did you sense their presence there?"

"No, but the Voss are Force sensitive. Neither Jedi nor Sith, but they are known to have visions. I had hoped to share in these visions and learn the answers I required."

"And did you?"

"No. They are xenophobic to the extreme. But a dark side entity threatens their existence—a being capable of instilling madness—perhaps it is something we could harness."

The Emperor's eyes narrowed as he mulled over the information. "Lord Scourge—is all of this true?"

The Executioner stepped out of the shadows and fixed me with his glare. "Yes, My Lord Emperor—every word. Lord Marr speaks the truth. He did everything within his power to return the masters."

"You—you had me followed?" I growled.

"I had to be certain you could be trusted—that you would not defy me, or turn them against me."

"Then why not send your right hand—clearly you trust _him_." I fuelled the false indignation and bravado within me until my blood seethed. If I had been followed, the Executioner would know the truth—but why would he corroborate my story?

The Emperor's agitation and anger swelled, but I held my ground between them. "It may yet be possible to restore the Dread Masters, but it will take time, perhaps years of research—but even if they can be restored, I have one concern—once freed, will they still serve _you_? Their loyalty cannot be guaranteed."

The Emperor smashed his fist against the armrest of his throne. "I need them _now_. Not _years_ from now. I must deal with this new threat," he hissed.

"A new threat?"

The Emperor snarled under his breath and looked away.

The Executioner cast a glance back at his master and the Emperor's subtle flourish of fingers must have served as permission to speak on his behalf.

"Three weeks ago, My Lord Emperor and I sensed a disturbance in the Force—one that threatens the Emperor himself. I've foreseen it—this threat _must_ be found. You've proven yourself loyal—you are the Defender of the Empire. If anyone can find it—I believe _you_ can."

His words seemed to carry a conspiratorial weight—one I couldn't account for. Perhaps, I had imagined it.

The silence between us lasted an age.

"I take no orders from you. If our Lord Emperor wills it, then I will do all in my power to root out this threat to the Empire."

Lord Scourge's lip curled up and for a moment I thought I saw amusement in his eyes. Perhaps they were toying with me. He stood aside and glanced back at the Emperor.

"You have your orders, Marr—find the threat against me and end it. Dismissed," the Emperor barked.

I bowed and left the Emperor's Fortress.

It wasn't until I'd returned to the hospital that it occurred to me—if the Emperor's Executioner had followed me, would I not have sensed it?

And if he had followed me, what else did he know? Perhaps this threat against the Emperor was the one Mala-Ro spoke of.

 _The Destroyer will come through you, but will not be one of you._

I needed to meditate on all that had happened, but first, I stopped at the nursery. The bassinet was empty, but the door to Liaseph's room stood ajar and I peered through it—though she didn't interact with the child, she was in the same room with her. The Twi'lek held our child in her arms and fed her a ration of formula.

I watched from afar until the Twi'lek glanced up and betrayed my presence.

"My Lord," the servant announced.

Liaseph sat up. "Ares…you're—you're alive." She smiled through her tears and I nodded.

The handmaiden finished feeding our daughter and stood. "Would you care to hold her, My Lord?"

"I would."

She shifted the child into my arms. "Forgive me, my lord, I hoped to introduce myself earlier."

"There was no time."

"But there is now—I am Una Vara. If you need anything at all, please let me know. I'm happy to help."

"I will, but for now, you are dismissed."

"Of course, my lord." The Twi'lek bowed and left the room.

I sat on the edge of the bed so that Liaseph could not avoid our daughter.

"Ares, you spoke to the Emperor? Is everything all right?"

"For now."

We sat in silence for what seemed a long time. "She needs a name, Liaseph."

"You name her. I don't know what to call her."

"I would name her for her mother."

"After me? No," she shook her head. "Name her after yours."

"Lilin? It doesn't suit her. What was your mother's name?"

"She was Beatrix…"

"Hmm. _Liatrix_ …to honor both you and your late mother."

What I believed was meant to be a stolen glance grew into something longer and more intent. Liaseph stared at the child and wept.

"All right…Liatrix," she whispered. "Her name is Liatrix."

((to be continued…))


	48. Chapter 48

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Forty-Seven~**

 _Joy is fleeting, vengeance is forever._

A year passed. And then another and another.

With time, and with the help of healers and medication, Liaseph came to accept our daughter, but despite her best efforts, she remained apprehensive. The child didn't understand why her mother would cleave to her one moment but reject her the next.

Our daughter catered to her mother's moods. During those times when Liaseph was aloof, Liatrix would retreat to her room or play in the gardens. The Twi'lek servant took it upon herself to supervise the child from afar and would on occasion play with her.

Despite Liaseph's inconsistent attentions, I sensed in our daughter a growing protectiveness toward her mother. If she sensed my displeasure with Liaseph, she would attempt to charm and distract me until my upset was forgotten.

To compensate for her mother's distant nature, I took it upon myself to spoil our daughter with countless trinkets and souvenirs from my travels. When duty permitted, I instructed her—I told her the stories of our family; I taught her music, art, and history—all the things a proper Sith lady should know—but there was too much of me in her and these lessons were quickly eschewed in favor of the lightsaber.

I taught her the prerequisites of dueling and observed as she practiced in the garden with her stick.

Watching her, became a meditation of sorts. She was ruthless and quick for a youngling and her ability to duel became second nature. But with my pride came a grim realization—one I dared not voice—but no matter how I tried to disregard Mala-Ro's prophecy, his words haunted me and with every skill the child mastered, the prophecy seemed to gather more credence.

The more I meditated on the Voss's words, the more opaque they'd become. I couldn't find the truth in them because I didn't _want_ to find it. I alone understood what it meant and out of concern for her safety, I abandoned the prophecy and with it any ambition to find the threat against the Emperor.

In forsaking these things, I found solace in the rationalization that the prophecy was a mistake, that it didn't apply to her—she was, after all, one of us. That would not change.

Our lives fell into a predictable pattern of contentment, worry, and resentment. The state of the galaxy prohibited lengthy shore leave, and more often than not, I was more akin to an honored guest than master of my own home.

On the days I was due to return, Liatrix would sit on the garden wall and watch for me. Upon my arrival, she would throw herself into my arms and giggle with delight. This simple act kindled what was left of my humanity and when I was with her I remembered what it was to know joy.

I carried her into our home where I would receive a more restrained but no less loving welcome from her mother. At last we knew something of the normalcy we each had craved at one time or another.

We divided our time between Kaas City and Corellia, where we would view the animals in their famed zoo and botanical gardens. Whether at home or far away, I came to see the galaxy through new eyes and my daughter's wonderment reminded me that there was more to this existence than war.

My love for Liatrix manifested as indulgence—her whims and desires became my missions. During our visit to Corellia, Liatrix became enamored with a cheeky albino monkey lizard. The creature would follow us for as long as its enclosure allowed and when it could go no further it chortled and cried. Liatrix whimpered for the creature but Liaseph would have none of it.

It wasn't until our return to Dromund Kaas, that I discovered a stowaway on board and our household population increased by one. Liatrix and the creature became inseparable and she took to calling it her 'little brother,' much to her mother's chagrin.

What little I knew of happiness came through trifling moments such as these, but they were all too fleeting and no matter how I clung to them, they weren't to last.

The Republic fleet had assumed a high orbit over Ziost—an act of war that could not be permitted to stand. I had less than an hour to make my farewells and rendezvous with the fleet.

A silver flash caught my eye and I ambled toward it. I tugged the utensil out of the gatepost and examined it—a fork that had gone missing from Liaseph's dinner service. The tines were bent at an awkward angle and the tarnish indicated it had been trapped in the wood for some time. Strange, that I hadn't noticed it before.

I discarded the ruined utensil inside and sent communiques to Angral and Malgus. No sooner had I finished this chore, the all too familiar tug of the Forcetide reminded me that I was not of this world, but the one beyond it.

"Not yet," I whispered. "I'm _not_ finished."

As I uttered the last of my protest, the world became a blur of shifting colour and I was hauled back to the Forcetide beach like an escaped convict.

The beach had become more dismal than I remembered, the sea, the treed banks all defined by varying shades of grey. The void had grown larger and more menacing and the peculiar music had dulled to a pathetic drone. At least, I was spared the disorientation that usually accompanied my arrivals and departures.

The remaining vestiges of the past melted away and my anger rose. I shook my fists and bellowed, "I said, not yet!"

The void moved closer to me, responding to my anger like a magnet. With every step backward, it advanced.

"I _must_ know the truth," I growled.

"The answers you seek do not exist in your past. Reliving that time serves nothing. You know I speak the truth."

"No. I will _not_ yield."

"And I will not fight you," the voice replied gently.

"Then we're at a stalemate!"

"Anger will not serve you here, it feeds the void, draws it nearer. To receive the answers you seek, you must meditate on the Force—then—the truth will be revealed."

The voice's dispassionate logic disarmed me. "Who are you?"

"Who I am is irrelevant for the time being. All will become clear when the time is right," the voice replied.

It was not in my nature to trust disembodied voices and the darkness whispered to me that it was a trick. _It sounds like a Jedi and they are not to be trusted…_

As my fury grew, so too, did the void. It drew closer, like a predator closing in on its prey and I realized the voice from beyond spoke the truth.

I knelt on the beach and gave myself to the will of the Force.

The sky and sea darkened until it became the galaxy—specifically the space surrounding Ziost. I watched as the Empire blasted free of hyperspace, coming head to head with the Republic fleet. Though I tried to discern which side attacked first, it was impossible to tell—but none of it mattered.

The sky erupted in a rain of colour and the battle for Ziost began. I frowned. "No—this is _not_ it. This is not what I seek—I was here. I know how this ends. The Empire prevailed—We reclaimed Ziost."

"And so you did. Trust in the Force," the voice beyond the Void reminded.

I sighed heavily and considered the advice. "It would seem, there is no other way."

The war over Ziost faded, but the darkness remained. I recognized the stars above as the constellations forming The Emperor's Cloak. I had been returned to Dromund Kaas—I was home.

My body quaked and bile salted my mouth. I stared into the darkened expanse, the silhouettes of the trees swaying to and fro in the damp current. Clouds drifted over the moons to steal what little of the light there was.

The air was redolent with the crackling smell of ozone that came with a building storm. It was almost peaceful and yet I couldn't urge my feet forward because I knew how this night would end.

The voice from the Forcetide became a presence behind me and I felt the comforting weight of a hand upon my elbow. "Darth Marr—you've never shied from adversity, even at its most painful. Do as you have always done."

I glanced back at the shadowed figure behind me and frowned under my mask. "You—but why?"

"Because I was asked to help you, by a mutual friend of ours—Master Zho."

"This—this…is most unexpected…Master Shan."

(((to be continued…)))


	49. Chapter 49

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Forty-Eight~**

 _The past is as much a prison as a locked room._

Satele Shan turned away from me. "Perhaps not as unexpected as you'd think. After I died, I found myself in the Forcetide and like you, I've been reviewing my life—who I was, who I became and most of all, where I went wrong."

"I knew your Master but a few short days. I would barely count him as an acquaintance, let alone a friend."

"Clearly you made quite an impression on him."

"If he had something to say to me, why are _you_ here?'

"We were on parallel paths for a long time, you and I, but something changed—through Master Zho, I've come to understand _why_ our lives intersected—and because of this, he believes we might help each other atone."

"Atone for what? I have nothing to atone for," I grunted.

"And yet you dwell on the past—searching…"

"With respect to you and your master, I'd prefer to be alone. Leave me."

She bowed slightly and steepled her hands in a gesture of respect. "Very well, but remember, you _must_ break with the past—there can be no future until you do. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for."

"As do I," I muttered.

Her apparition faded and I was alone once more. This was not a moment to share with a stranger, let alone a Jedi, and I was relieved that she was gone. Sharing the moment that defined my life might have made it easier to bear, but it was not abatement I was searching for. I would know the full brunt of my actions and the ordeal that followed. This journey was for me alone.

The night had grown darker and thicker—shadows upon shadows towering over the land. The moonlight defined only the barest outline of our home and its surrounding gardens.

The ginx hopped past me unaware and settled into a thicket of leaf grass near the fountain. After a trio of lazy croaks the creature fell silent and I noticed for the first time since my arrival, that the entire jungle held its breath in wait.

The snap of a twig nearby announced an intruder. I searched the darkness. Dressed in flecktarn camouflage, with a blaster at her hip, Liaseph's Twi'lek servant, Una Vara appeared, barely visible against the foundation of the stronghold.

She sloughed the heavy pack off her shoulder and every half meter she paused to apply a charge along the supports. After she'd emptied the pack, she withdrew a detonator and sprinted into the jungle for cover.

Instinct demanded that I disarm the explosives and I discovered that I could not. The past would always be the past no matter how desperately I wished to alter it.

With no means to save my family, I stood helplessly and watched the past unfold.

A livid blue flash ripped through the stronghold and passed through me unfelt. The ground shook and a rain of flaming debris peppered the site. Trees toppled in every direction and fed the fire. The air current carried the ashes and burning fragments along the ground until the grass ignited.

Durasteel shards cut through the air like arrows and pinned the half burned ginx to the ground, belly up, like a lab specimen prepared for dissection.

The smoke and flames parted just enough to reveal that the south-eastern corner of the stronghold had miraculously survived. A shrill scream cut through the roaring flames.

The door flew open and Liatrix padded forward in her night clothes and Loth cat slippers, stopping just inside the doorway.

She crushed the monkey-lizard to her chest and both stared out into the night, wild-eyed and trembling. A shadow rose up behind her—imposing and dark. I recognized it at once—Tulak Hord. She had survived because of him—but there was no altruism hidden in his rotting core. His machinations were his own and he would haunt her until he received his due, that much, I knew.

To my relief, Liatrix gave no indication that she was aware of the demonic presence behind her, urging her forward. The breeze carried his command, the echo sounding more like a dozen spirits whispering at once.

 _Run my child!_

Horde's spirit vanished. The ceiling collapsed behind her and she cried out. Liatrix stumbled forward, eyes wet with tears and her face reddened by the heat of the surrounding flames. She scrambled over the smokey debris and coughed.

The monkey-lizard muttered and pointed. Liatrix froze. She stared at the mound of tattered clothing ahead and broke into a clumsy run. "Mama!"

Liatrix threw herself next to her mother's soot-covered body and shook her shoulder. "Mama…mama!"

When Liaseph didn't move or answer, Liatrix pushed at the beam crushing her mother into the soil. The massive support wouldn't budge and she wailed in frustration until her voice broke.

"Mama," she croaked.

Her lip jutted out in a thick pout and quivered. She dropped the animal and cried out, the sound raspy and raw. Something in the Force responded to her desperation and the beam fell away just enough to reveal the explosion had rended Liaseph's body in half at the waist.

Liatrix stared at her mother's broken body, her eyes as round as coins. She shifted closer to her and sat cross-legged at her side. She reached out and petted her mother's cheek. Her expression grew vacant and far away and despite my proximity, I could offer no comfort.

She rocked back and forth, her gaze empty. The monkey-lizard crawled into her lap and pawed tentatively at her chest.

Liatrix buried her face into the animal's scruffy mane and sobbed.

The Twi'lek emerged from the brush and advanced, her blaster aimed at Liatrix. She stood, poised to shoot for what seemed an eternity. Her hands shook and she dropped her arms. Cursing herself, she took aim again. Her finger caressed the pistol's trigger and her lower lip trembled.

"Karking hell," she swore under her breath. She mopped the tears from her face and eyed the pistol in her hand. She closed her eyes and put the pistol's muzzle against her own temple. Her hand shook and she wept. Unable to pull the trigger she reholstered the weapon and sank to her knees.

After she had collected herself, she took up her com and tapped in a frequency. "You gotta help me. I karked it up. Operation Cornerstone is a bust."

"How?" The male voice at the other end barked.

"The kid…she's still alive. She survived somehow—the charges must've been defective."

"What about the target?"

"I don't know. I don't know. I don't see him—Liaseph—er…his _mistress_ is dead, but the girl's alive," the Twi'lek rambled.

"Take her out," the male voice commanded.

"I can't! Don't you think I would've done it by now if I could? I _can't_ do it."

"You _have_ to. That's an order!"

"I can't! I helped raise her for kark's sakes." She threw her hands up and paced. "What if…what if _we_ took her? Raised her as ours?"

" . No. Are you _insane_?"

"I can't just _leave_ her like this."

"A'right, a'right. Hold tight…Extraction team is on its way. Let _them_ deal with the kid."

"How long?"

"ETA—four hours."

"Four hours? What the hell? Can't you get anyone any quicker?"

"No…Imperials are on high alert because of Ziost. It's gonna take a while to get through."

"I can't hang around here that long. What about our asset?"

"Worth a shot. See what you can do."

"Yeah…looks like I've got no choice."

"Aruna?"

"Yah?"

"Get out of there, okay?"

"Yeah…okay."

"And Aruna?

"Yah?"

"I love you. It's going to be okay, I promise."

"Love you too, Torin."

The Twi'lek swiped at her tears and straightened her clothes. She glanced over at Liatrix one last time and after a moment's hesitation, she fled toward the city.

The Twi'lek held the answers I sought, and yet I could not tear myself from the site. My duty to the Empire had cost me this moment in life; I was not about to sacrifice it in death, even if all I could do was lament unseen.

Liatrix suffered for hours over her mother's body. The rain came and the lightning and thunder clashed overhead. The fires died away under the downpour and she curled into herself soaked and shivering. The monkey-lizard clung to her and whimpered.

Hours later, what remained of the trees thrashed above as a shuttle descended. A pair of agents emerged from the shuttle and fought Liatrix away from her mother's body. She screamed and bit one of the men on the wrist hard enough to draw blood, while the other was thrown across the site and into a tree.

A third agent rushed down the shuttle's boarding ramp and aimed at Liatrix. The dart connected with her throat and she dropped. The monkey-lizard chittered and hissed, hackles raised. A second dart dropped the animal.

The men carried Liatrix and her pet aboard the shuttle and collected their injured man.

"Brat bit me," the first agent hissed soothing his wrist. "What about Aruna?"

"Zane said not to wait—said something about an asset in the city. Don't worry Aruna is slipperier than a greased bormu."

"Right—let's clear out before the locals come calling."

Alone again, I knelt beside Liaseph's body and kissed her for the last time. Her hand slipped through mine and fell into the mud.

Liaseph never considered that we might outlive her. My regrets were many—among them, that I hadn't married her. Despite our problems, it was something I'd meant to do, _wanted_ to do, but like so many others, I had always believed there would be more time.

In life, I had spent this night warring over a distant world. It wasn't until my death that I realized my folly.

Perhaps Satele Shan was correct—I needed to atone for my absence and for placing duty above family. I protected a thankless Empire but failed those who mattered most.

 _That_ was my sin.

Not long after the extraction team left, the rain stopped and another shuttle descended—an Imperial shuttle. I drew away from Liaseph and stood.

Gusts of steam shot up from the hydraulics as the shuttle's ramp descended. A squadron of Imperial troopers disembarked, weapons raised.

After the area was deemed secure, the all clear was given.

The Twi'lek descended the ramp and called back over her shoulder. "She's over here," she pointed toward Liaseph's body.

A cloaked figure strode down the ramp and stalked across the muddy site. The clouds parted enough to allow the moonlight to stream through like a spotlight. The figure turned into the light, his face illuminated like a beaming diety.

Ravage.

He looked down at the body and then back to the Twi'lek.

"And the child? Where's the child?"

"She—she survived somehow. I don't know how. Her room was the only part left standing. I'm thinking the charges were defective."

"I don't want your excuses. I want answers! _Where_ is the child?"

"Maybe the animals got her."

"Lies!" He advanced on her and stuck his index finger in her face." You'd be wise to tell me the truth. What is that old saying, 'the truth will free you?'"

Aruna winced under some invisible pressure. "What _is_ that? What are you doing to me?"

"Answer the question."

"She—our extraction team took her. She's in Republic custody. They'll deal with her. She's probably as good as dead already."

Ravage back-handed the Twi'lek. "Idiot! I expected _you_ to deal with her! Not only did you fail to kill her, you deprived me the pleasure of rectifying your failure."

The Twi'lek fell to her knees and clutched her jaw. "I'm sorry, my lord."

Ravage buried his boot in her gut. "Idiot filth! Do you know the little beast had the audacity to attack me? _Me?_ A Sith Lord!" He snorted.

The Twi'lek doubled over and spat up blood. "Yeah—who do you think had to pull all the forks and knives out of the trees after you left. It's a shame her aim sucked."

"Silence!" Ravage growled and the Twi'lek choked. She tugged at the unseen hands at her throat and he released his hold on her.

He paced. "I came here to deal with her mother. She betrayed me—twice!"

Aruna's eyes narrowed into a defiant glare.

"Did you know that?"

"No."

"What kind of _spy_ are you? You lived with them for years! I think you're keeping things from me. I protected you. I protected you _both_ —helped you to escape and this is how you repay me?"

"I told you everything."

"I should have known better than to rely on SIS filth like you. And now, I'm in need of a child's body…"

"They might think…jungle animals got her."

"Shut that treacherous sewage hole you call a mouth! I _need_ a body! Pity yours wouldn't do, but I have other plans for you." He stooped to pick up her left lekku and twisted it hard.

The Twi'lek gritted her teeth and winced. "If you're gonna kill me, you may as well know—Marr wasn't here. He's still alive."

"Incompetent and _stupid_ as well. Of course, he wasn't here!" He kicked her in the gut once more. "He was at the Battle for Ziost."

"He was supposed to be here. Liaseph told me herself," she croaked and dabbed at the blood oozing from her lip.

"Yes, he was…until _I_ arranged his early departure."

"Why—why would you do that? You knew about the op," she gasped. "The Republic wants him dead as much as you do."

"Oh, but that's where you're mistaken. You assumed too much. I don't want him dead. I _never_ wanted him dead. I wanted him to _suffer_ ," he spat.

"Why?"

"Because he took everything from me. My apprentices, my son…"

"And Liaseph…she really loved him," the agent taunted. "And _you_ really loved her."

"Shut your mouth you vile trash. It wasn't _love_ ," he spat. "It was a matter of principle."

"I'll talk, y'know. I'll tell them everything you did and why…my lord."

"Your attempts at goading me into executing you now aren't without merit…but I can be patient when I need to be."

"I meant every word. I'll talk."

"No…you won't. Because you won't remember."

The Twi'lek's eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open. "You can't do that."

"I can and I will." He turned to his men. "Go to the slave camps. Find a small girl and burn her, then bring what remains here. Put the carcass next to the . I want him to find them together."

"Yes my lord," the squadron captain muttered and gestured to a pair of his men to join him.

"It's a real shame you won't be able to gloat, my lord. Your vengeance is empty," Aruna snarled.

"I can gloat aplenty when I watch _you_ confess to their murders before the Dark Council. Just think, the great and respected Marr unwittingly harboring SIS spies in his own home. He will become the laughing stock of the Empire—so you see, there is plenty of enjoyment to be had."

"I'll never confess! You can't make me!"

"Oh…can't I?" Ravage fixed her in his glare and tightened the hold on her mind. "Watch me."

Aruna clutched her skull and shuddered, bloody spittle spilling out of her mouth as she screamed.

"Who killed Marr's and bastard?"

"I-I did. _I_ killed them."

"That's right and they'll sense the truth in your words—and I was never here—you don't know me."

"You were never here—and I don't know you."

Ravage turned to the remaining men. "Take her away—hold her until I decide _when_ she should be captured."

"Yes, my lord."

The men collected the gibbering Twi'lek and dragged her into the shuttle by her armpits.

Ravage knelt at Liaseph's side and coiled a lock of her hair about his finger and allowed it to unravel. "Goodbye, _pet_."

He rose and boarded the shuttle without a backward glance. "Have a herald inform the _Erinyes_ and the Citadel of this most _terrible_ tragedy."

"Yes, my lord."

((to be continued…))


	50. Chapter 50

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Forty-Nine~**

 _Some truths are best left undiscovered._

By morning, the fires had turned to embers, leaving only random plumes of smoke wavering up from the blackened soil. With the sunrise, came the Crisis Management teams dispatched by Imperial Intelligence.

I kept watch over Liaseph's body and that of the unfortunate slave child murdered and placed by Ravage's men. I questioned how easily I had believed the remains were that of my child. I suppose a grieving eye sees no hope and the worst is accepted without question.

As the teams scoured the ruins, the pungent stench of ashes and char rose higher with every scrap of debris moved. Every face was that of a stranger until a familiar figure appeared on the scene.

Tersus navigated the teams, pausing long enough to pull vital information from each group leader. Each fact was diligently recorded and as always I saw the icy calculation in his eyes.

His time in Destab had served to give him an undeniable presence and authority few men carried and to many of them, he was nearly as intimidating as the Sith.

As the leader of Destab, it was not his place to lead such investigations, but given his connection to me, I suspected he requested inclusion.

I walked alongside him unseen as he conducted his analysis of the site. He knelt at Liaseph's side and examined her remains and that of the child meant to be Liatrix.

His brows furrowed thoughtfully and though he was never one to bend to sentiment, I sensed his anger at the waste of life.

"Whoever is responsible for this atrocity—will pay dearly," he muttered as he drew sheets over the bodies.

He stood and scanned the site until he found the officer he was searching for. "See to it these remains are secured and treated with the respect due a Dark Councillor, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

The officer summoned his team and collected the remains as instructed. I lingered until I could no longer see them.

Tersus strode across the grounds and stooped to retrieve a soot-covered datapad. After spit polishing the device with his kerchief, he discovered the pad was relatively intact and tucked it under his arm.

He retreated to the tent erected to serve as a makeshift command center and gestured to a pair of Imperial guards securing the area.

"You two—stand watch. See to it, I'm not disturbed."

"Yes sir," the men saluted in unison and flanked the entry to the tent as he disappeared between the flaps.

Inside, Tersus turned the datapad over and examined it thoroughly before slicing into it. "Use decryption tool N4-CR," he muttered to himself.

The computer searched the database and downloaded the decryption tool. A minute later, the coded entry gave way to basic, revealing several journal entries. He settled at the com and huddled over the datapad and I stood at his shoulder to read along with him.

* * *

 _Natunda, Elona 3_ _rd_ _._

 _I've never been one to keep a journal. In all honesty, I'd rather talk to someone but I'm not in a place where I feel comfortable venturing out into the city alone yet._

 _It's times like this when I miss Lennie the most. I can't believe she's dead and there are times I can't stand it. She didn't deserve to die. Sometimes I catch myself hating him for what he did to her. There is a side to him he never shows me, but I know it's there all the same. He is both champion and cutthroat. He is my rescuer and my love and there are days I can't reconcile these wildly disparate aspects of who he is._

 _When I think about all we've endured, I thought we'd be closer, but the opposite seems to be true. We tip toe around each other like we're walking on nightbird shells. He says so little. I wish I could read his mind so I could know his thoughts, but I can't and I begin to imagine what he might be thinking and I get afraid. What if it will never be the same again?_

* * *

 _Satunda, Elona 5_ _th_ _._

 _I can't believe I suggested we have a child. I must be truly desperate. Who am I fooling? I_ _am_ _desperate. Of course, he doesn't want any and I refuse to be one of those schemers that does this on their own, I want him to agree, and I want him to want a child as much as I do._

 _He's changed and I'm afraid he's changed so much that I'll never understand him. The dark powers he controls terrify me. Some nights I swear the shadows come alive and touch me with their claws as he sleeps. And yet there are times when I see a sweetness in him—like when I discovered he'd stolen my holo portrait from home because he didn't wish to forget me. I love him, but I'm never certain if he feels the same way._

 _He's promised me a home here and he told me I could make it what I want. I suppose this is how men show their affection—with things. Would I sound greedy if I said his time is more valuable than anything else he could give me?_

 _There is so much to grow accustomed to here, I wonder if I ever will. I just wish he wasn't so distant._

* * *

 _Datunda, Kelona 7_ _th_ _._

 _I miss him. I wanted to com him today, but I didn't dare. He'd explained before leaving that it could jeopardize his missions, so I must never call, no matter how tempted. To take my mind off his absence, I visited the city to see about decorations for our home. The Imperials…are difficult people. My accent gives me away and they know I'm an outsider._

 _Perhaps I'm paranoid, but I feel like they're whispering about me. When I walk by, the people fall silent and when I'm far enough away, they laugh. I suppose my clothes are too colourful and my hair too elaborate. I stand out too much._

 _Note to self: Purchase enough boring grey material to cover a star cruiser and make clothes from it. Everything here is grey—the sky, the street, the buildings the people, their food, their clothes. Everything! I'm a shimmer bird in colourless purgatory. I hate being alone. I need to make some friends._

* * *

 _Atunda, Nelona 6_ _th._

 _I can't believe I actually returned to the club to visit. I debated seeing Master Vowrawn but thought better of it. Ares wouldn't like it. Then I thought I'd visit the lounge and speak to my former co-workers._

 _I was a fool. I was never friends with any of these people. They behaved as if they didn't know me and turned me out. Then I thought, who needs them! I have money! Lots of it! I went to the shops favored by those of means and thought to befriend them instead, but they're as mean as gundarks. I hate it here._

* * *

 _Natunda, Nelona 15_ _th_ _._

 _I've decided to devote myself to the house more. I want it to be perfect for him. I'm going to make the room I've seen in my dreams. I have the feeling it's important to him and I want him to feel at home here, as much as I do. I've taken to calling it Little Alderaan, but I want something of the Sith here for him. The strange man in my dreams insists Ares would be happy if I made this room. I think I know a good idea when I hear one! Even if the decorator thinks I'm crazy…_

* * *

 _Datunda, Helona 2_ _nd_ _._

 _I'm almost embarrassed to admit, I think I have a crush on the man in my dream. He talks to me more than Ares does and he has this perverse, twisted quality about him that I'm ashamed to say I like. He makes me laugh and blush. When I'm with him, it feels like he goes right through me. If the altar in my dreams could speak, it would have torrid tales to tell. I'm actually starting to look forward to bedtime. The dreams are so vivid. I blush at the thought of it. I'm being silly. Maybe it's wishful thinking showing up in my dreams._

* * *

 _Katunda, Melona 1_ _st_ _._

 _I finished the room and Ares hated it—it reminds him of his ancestor, Tulak Hord, who also happens to be who I'm dreaming about. He says Tulak is real and I should be careful around him. I can't believe it. My dreams were the only fun thing about being here._

 _All that effort for nothing. I suppose the decorator will be happy now._

 _I'm worried—how do I keep from dreaming?I need to stop fantasizing about this man—ghost, thing…whatever he is. Ares says he wants something from me—what it could be, I don't know yet. Sometimes I feel sorry for him—he speaks so passionately about being alive again and all the things he'd do if he was._

 _On the bright side, Ares stole the ginx from the Thuls and it's living in our garden. Today was very much like Alderaan when we first met. I missed having his arms around me and I missed how his body felt against mine. I missed the way he whispers. I love him and I've missed being with him. I wish it could be like this forever._

* * *

 _Atunda, Melona 15_ _th_ _._

 _I saw Master Rylister today…he answers to Abradon now. I barely recognize him anymore. The way he snarls…the cruel and cutting words. He told me what his expectations for me were on Alderaan and the more I listened, the more I realized that he hadn't changed, he'd only hidden it better on Alderaan. In a way, he's more honest as a Sith._

 _He wouldn't help us. It seems that his friendship with the Zanes means more to him than I do. I'm scared, what if the Zanes try to kill Ares again?_

* * *

 _Natunda, Melona 20_ _th_ _._

 _Rylister is dead. So is Simeon Ur…Ravage's son. They killed each other. Ares arranged it with Master Spindrall on Korriban. Ares, responsible for the deaths of two of Ravage's apprentices and his son now. I can't believe my Ares would do something so cruel. He insists it's the 'way of the Sith.' It sickens me._

 _If that's not enough, he's returning to full-time duty. Instead of hours or days, he'll be gone for months at a time now. He had the nerve to suggest I hire a servant for companionship. It's not the same. I want him, not some stranger. I can't imagine a stranger living in our house. Sometimes I don't think he understands me at all._

* * *

 _Atunda, Melona 31_ _st_ _._

 _Wings of the Thranta…I'm pregnant. How the hell am I pregnant? This can't be. Implants don't fail…hmph. Apparently, they do and they have._

 _Tulak won't leave me alone. Every minute I'm trying to rest, he's in my mind, badgering me to let him touch me and to let him touch the baby. I'm afraid he wants to hurt it or take it away somehow. I'm a wreck. I can't sleep. I need to get out of here._

* * *

 _Natunda, Yelona 13_ _th_ _._

 _I'm shaking inside. I can't believe what I did. I must be insane. I don't understand what possessed me. What was I thinking? I've taken four showers and I still feel dirty._

 _I should never have gone to the theater tonight—but I did. I went alone and I sat alone and the society women mocked me. I heard them call me Alderaanian trash in the bathroom. I don't think they knew I was there. I hid in the stall until they left. After intermission was over, I went back to my seat. They kept turning around and pointing at me and whispering. I could see the hate and disgust in their eyes. I left halfway through the second act. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction that they'd made me cry. They'd probably think that was funny too._

 _As I was running away, I wasn't watching where I was going and collided with Ravage of all people. I tried to escape him, but he held me. He asked what had me so upset and wiped my tears. I told him about the nasty women inside and when he asked, I described them. Turns out that hissing harpy was his wife. Why am I not surprised?_

 _It felt good to be held. He was on his way to meet her, but he never made it inside._

 _We ended up walking downtown. I told him about the nightmares and the spirit. He told me he had a necklace—an artifact—that would help me. We went to his house…I'd never been to his actual home before. Inside, it rivaled the best palaces on Alderaan._

 _So, he gave me the necklace from his collection and I ended up giving him a night. I didn't tell him about the baby. I'm such an idiot. I can't see him again. Ever. I_ _am_ _trash. I'd better encode this. If I had any sense I'd burn it…but it's all I have to talk to._

* * *

 _Satunda, Kelona 13_ _th_ _._

 _I can't believe I haven't written in five months. The baby hasn't made it easy, I've been so tired and sick. I've managed to stay away from Kaas City until today. I couldn't avoid it, I had to see the healer about the baby. It had stopped kicking. I feared Tulak might have hurt it out of spite over the necklace. I hadn't dreamt of him in months. I could actually sleep. The baby is fine just quiet apparently._

 _I ran into the one person I'd hoped to avoid. Ravage didn't know I was pregnant when we spent the night together and now that I'm showing, he thinks it's his. He actually smiled until I told him it wasn't his. Then I told him our night together was a huge mistake and that it would never happen again._

 _I fled in a taxi before he could say anything. There are nights I miss him—he would talk to me—something Ares rarely did. It's been months and I have no idea if he's even alive—he's off pursuing some Dreaded Masters or something for the Emperor and I'm not even allowed to com him. How long am I supposed to go on wondering?_

* * *

 _Datunda, Selona 17_ _th_ _._

 _I'm definitely going to hell…but it was worth it. I saw Ravage's wife at the museum (He doesn't like museums, so I figured I was safe and I had to get out of the house.) She was standing there with all her harpy friends and I heard them whispering again. I stroked my belly and twirled the necklace her husband had given me. I could tell she recognized it._

 _I thought her eyes were going to fall out of her head. I flaunted my pregnancy as much as I could and then I left._

 _I see now why the Sith like revenge so much. If she was going to tell everyone I'm trash and get people to shun me, I may as well play the part and make the wonder._

* * *

 _Satunda, Nelona 25_ _th_ _._

 _Still no word from Ares. I think the baby is coming. I hope I die, I don't deserve to live. They're right about me, I am trash. Una, the servant I hired, is insisting we go to the hospital. She's worried about the baby. Everyone worries about the baby. No one worries about me. Another thing I have to go through alone. I hate this. I think it's time—it hurts._

* * *

 _Satunda, Helona 15_ _th_ _._

 _Ares finally came back and I was allowed to go home with him and the baby. We named the girl, Liatrix. I don't matter anymore, I know that now. She is everything. Every spare moment he has, he devotes to the child. I hate her._

* * *

 _LifeDay/Winter Fete_

 _He spoils the girl too much. Whatever she wants, he gives her. He doesn't even ask what I think. She's his world. I hate my daughter and I hate myself more for hating her. What's wrong with me? This is a pointless exercise. I'm a failure as a wife and mother, as a woman…as everything. Stupid journal doesn't help!_

* * *

 _Atunda, Nelona 25_ _th_ _._

 _I thought I'd lost this thing. Liatrix turned three today. We visited the zoo, all of us together. As every other birthday, he showered her with gifts, including a monkey lizard of all things. Damn thing followed us home. She's named it Lord Taral, which means 'protector' or 'little brother'—I'm not sure. I feel as though I should be bowing to it with a name like that._

 _The creature is a nightmare, but she loves it and Ares sees no harm in it. She's his little princess and she plays to it. He claims to feel nothing, but he's different with her. I suppose I'm being unfair, he buys me gifts too, but he still doesn't understand, it's not the trinkets I want. I want him. I want him alone. I don't want to share him with her. Even if it's only once…if only for a few hours._

* * *

 _Atunda, Welona 28_ _th_ _._

 _Ravage has learned where we live. He's forced his way inside twice now. I can't fight him off. It's easier if I let him do what he wants._

 _His wife is dead now. He killed her…he said he did it for me. I thought I was going to be sick. I hated her, but I never wanted her dead and I certainly don't want to replace her. He has this mad idea that I should leave Ares and Liatrix and live with him. He wants another son to replace the one he lost. Maker help me…what do I? I can't live like this. I hate this. If only I could keep Ares from leaving on his missions…then I'd be safe. Still another month before he returns to me._

* * *

 _Satunda, Elona 30_ _th_ _._

 _Thank the maker. Ares is home and Una was kind enough to take Liatrix away to the city. Finally a moment alone. I made the most of it and for a little while, it was like old times again.I debated telling him the truth, but if I did, he'd leave me, I know it. He'd hate me forever. I love him, I don't deserve him…but I will do all I can to make up for what I've done._

* * *

 _Datunda, Kelona 26_ _th_ _._

 _Ares left for another tour yesterday, and today, I verified that I'm pregnant again. I suspected as much, but I couldn't say anything, I had to be sure. If it was Ravage's, and he found out somehow, I'd never be rid of him, but thankfully, that's not an issue. The genetic tests confirmed he wasn't the father. I had to erase the droid's memory bank afterward, but I managed it. I plan to surprise Ares when he returns._

* * *

 _Natunda, Telona 11_ _th_ _._

 _I was released from the hospital today. Ravage forced himself into the house again yesterday. He was livid when I told him I was having another child with Ares and that it was over. If it weren't for Liatrix, Ravage might have killed me as well as the baby. I'm relieved I didn't tell Ares, I'll grieve for both of us._

 _I think Liatrix shocked him. She has her father's powers…I'll never understand them. They scare me, but for once I was grateful she has them. She saved my life. I'm scared that she'll talk about Ravage to her father when he returns. If that happened it would be a mess._

 _Una spent the better part of the day locating and cleaning the silverware after Liatrix's attack. I hope Ravage never comes back, but I know better. He won't let this go. So long as we live, he'll never let it go._

 _Una suggested to me, we all go to Alderaan when Ares leaves for his missions and to stay there until he returns home. She's a good friend to me and I'm thankful to have her—she's so much like Lennie was. It's nice to finally have a friend I can trust._

* * *

 _Katunda, Nelona 25_ _th_ _._

 _Today, Liatrix turns four years old. A joyful day! I made her favorite things to eat and ordered a Coruscanti chocolate cake smuggled in. Ares commissioned matching necklaces for us both, and so many toys that a new wing might be needed for them all. I've never seen Liatrix so happy._

 _She is a clever girl, so much like her father despite his insistence to the contrary. I hope the fates can forgive me…I was a horrible mother to her for so long, I hope she never remembers that time. I'm ashamed of my jealousy. I have much to make up for and want nothing more than to spend every day of my life doing so. I'm grateful and lucky, far luckier than I deserve. For the first time in years, my heart is full. I love them both more than I can ever say._

* * *

Tersus sighed and pushed back from the console. He ran his hands over his face and squeezed the bridge of his nose as if soothing a headache.

"Upload contents to my personal server. Use encryption key Resh-Esk-Grek-Resh-Esk-Trill. My eyes only."

After the upload finished, he turned the datapad over in his hands. "Delete all entries, save for the last."

I drifted away from Tersus and turned my back to him. There were no more mysteries—no more missing pieces. There was nothing to do now, but return to the Forcetide and confront my ultimate fate, and yet I felt compelled to remain. I needed more time. I needed perspective. I needed…to _avenge_ them.

At the promise of vengeance, the darkness roiled within me, demanding its hateful sustenance. I wasn't prepared to deal with Master Shan and her Jedi calm any more than I was prepared to fight the abyss.

The moment sharpened and I remembered what came next. I receded into the shadows and waited.

The tent flaps flew apart and the man I'd been in life stalked into the tent. "I was told I would find you here, Tersus."

"My lord."

"Report."

Tersus cleared his throat and straightened. "I've conferred with the teams and the general consensus among them is, that this was an assassination attempt against you. A series of Baradium Bisulfate charges were set around the foundation—whoever was responsible, knows their way around explosives.

"It is with the utmost regret that I must inform you—your wife and daughter didn't survive the blast. Please accept my condolences, my lord."

"Where are they?"

"I had my men secure their remains. They await your instructions. You have my every assurance, my lord, that I will personally find the one culpable."

"Were you able to salvage anything of use?"

"There is a great deal of ground yet to cover, the men are working on it as we speak, but there was this," he said, as he proffered the datapad. "Regrettably, I was only able to recover one of the entries. Perhaps it may be of some comfort."

"What of my wife's servant…the Twi'lek…Una Vara?"

"Her body hasn't been recovered as of yet. I doubt she survived. Something about her name troubles me. I trust Intelligence did a background check?"

I sat heavily at the conference table at the center of the tent. "Yes…Xesh saw to it."

"I would offer you a drink, my lord…but regrettably I have nothing here."

"You came here to work, I wouldn't expect such comforts here—but I appreciate the gesture no less." I stared down at the datapad as if it might bite.

"Perhaps you'd like a moment to yourself…" Tersus offered and indicated the datapad.

"I would. There's nothing further."

"Know, that I remain at your disposal, my lord."

Tersus saluted and left me alone with my thoughts. The man I had been in life read the entry and turned over the datapad.

I took a step toward the past, but a hand gently clasped my elbow. I glanced back at the force stopping me. "Master Shan, you've returned."

"You can't change the past. The man you were will never be privy to anything more than what is on that pad. He won't hear you—none of this—will ever change. Let go of your hatred…your need for vengeance. It'll serve nothing."

"It'll serve _me_. I shall have no peace while Ravage lives."

"Take what time you need, but know this, the _present_ is all there is."

((to be continued…))


	51. Chapter 51

**Star Wars: The Old Republic**

 **Marr**

 **~Chapter Fifty~**

 _Letting go often requires more strength than holding on._

On the day of the funeral, wide shafts of sunlight cut through the clouds and not a single drop of rain fell. I wanted it to rain—a downpour the likes no one had ever seen—a deluge so powerful it would sweep even the Citadel away in its current. My fists tightened at my sides and my blood ran in destructive torrents through my veins despite the measured beats of the stone in my chest.

I stood apart from the handful of people gathered for the funeral. I recognized most of them as merchants and tradespeople Liaseph had dealt with during the construction of our home. The jittery decorator took a step toward me and then took the same step back, ambivalent as to whether approaching me was good for his longevity. I offered no encouragement and was grateful to be spared their half-hearted condolences.

Vowrawn, accompanied by a cadre of his men remained on the fringes of the burial site. With a simple nod, he spoke both greetings and respects.

The group dispersed after the conclusion of the burial rite. Only Vowrawn and I remained.

"A moment, old friend?"

I agreed with a nod. I didn't look up or at him, I kept my gaze fixed on the site and watched as the cemeterians lowered each casket into their graves.

"I didn't wish to leave without saying a word, though perhaps that might have been best. I truly am sorry for your loss—if there is anything at all I can do."

"Your presence was unexpected."

"I wasn't certain I should come—if I'd be welcome."

"She considered you her friend."

"Liaseph was always a most generous soul—a rare light in our dreary world."

Words betrayed me and I found it simpler to remain silent.

"Be well, old friend. Perhaps I'll see you at the Citadel later in the week?"

"Perhaps."

Vowrawn took his leave and I remained by the graveside until both were covered over and the markers placed.

* * *

A month almost to the day later, I was told that an elite team of ciphers had captured Liaseph's Twi'lek servant, Una Vara, known also as Aruna Var, SIS agent, terrorist, and wife to SIS Agent Torin Zane.

I heard she had struggled against her captors and that she spat in Ravage's face. For any other crime, that act alone would have earned her a pardon from me.

There was no trial, only the public execution broadcast over the holonet for every world to see. The Twi'lek remained in a state of mad defiance even as the flames consumed her body.

Keeper, rendered mute by Zane, was retired a disgrace, not only for his failure to elude the SIS but for permitting an incompetent minder the responsibility of processing employment visas.

The Minder vanished and it was unclear if he bolted out of fear, or if he was exfiltrated by the SIS. Neither would surprise me.

Tersus tapped at the door frame of my offices at the Citadel. "My lord," he said with a curt bow, "You wished to see me?"

"Yes. Take a seat." I indicated the chairs before my desk.

"Thank you, my lord."

"It would seem Zane and Minder Xesh are still at large," I began.

"Yes, unfortunately, but it is to my understanding, agents have been dispatched and the usual postings have been made at the Mandalorian Enclave. Aside from those loose ends, it would appear the case draws to a close."

I nodded and drew a deep breath. "Indeed—but that is not the reason I've summoned you. No doubt you're aware Keeper has been retired and Imperial Intelligence requires competent and efficient leadership—I'm prepared to offer you a promotion—to the position of Keeper of Imperial Intelligence, as we discussed several years ago—assuming, of course, that is still your goal."

"My lord, yes. It has always been my honour to serve Imperial Intelligence in any capacity, but to serve as Keeper, that has been my penultimate goal."

"You have an eye toward the Minister's post?"

"Yes—in due course."

"Very well. I'll have my staff register the appropriate paperwork for the transfer. Congratulations—Keeper."

"Thank you, my lord."

"I trust you will continue to serve Intelligence and the Empire with distinction, as you always have."

"You may count on it, my lord," Keeper said with a bow.

"Dismissed."

* * *

My office dissolved and I was returned to the Forcetide beach, an apparition once more. Purple lightning licked across the edges of the void which had more than doubled its size since I'd last seen it. A tempest roiled at its heart and I could sense the anger and despair growing exponentially with every passing moment. The darkness within me recognized something of itself within the void and hissed and oozed about me like a cloak.

Satele Shan meditated by the water's edge, seemingly unconcerned by the gathering darkness and glanced up at my arrival.

"Darth Marr, you've returned. I trust you've settled your unfinished business?"

"No—no, I have not. Ravage still lives and as you have so relentlessly pointed out, I cannot change the past."

"Then you've seen the light, so to speak, good. Only the present matters. In pursuing vengeance and hatred you've become mired in the past and have failed to move beyond it. You've forgotten your true goals, you've allowed the darkness to cloud your path."

"And what would _you_ know of my true goals?"

"The Force speaks through me. I know that you hoped to warn your daughter about the Emperor—what he truly is and what he hopes to achieve and the danger he poses to her."

"What does her life matter to you—she murdered you in life."

Satele nodded. "That is in the past and in this place, I have learned to move past it. Regardless of her actions, Liatrix has a destiny to fulfill within the Force and she is our best hope in defeating the great evil that plagues our peoples."

"You are aware the Emperor is the one known as Izax the Ultimate Devourer? And that he seeks to use her as his next vessel?"

"Though our cultures differ greatly, some things remain constant. The end of all things, has many names, Izax among them—but the one thing we can agree upon is that it must be destroyed before any more worlds are lost."

"Yes." I considered my next words carefully. "You speak of moving beyond the past, to the present and yet you've refrained from explaining how this is done."

"Only because you weren't ready to give up on vengeance and hatred. You were preoccupied with holding on to that which you knew—that which was comfortable."

"Enough of this. What would the Force have me do? If I am to warn my daughter—help her, I need to find her—and regrettably, I do not know where she is."

"Nor do I. We will need to search and when we find her, we'll need to guide those who may be able to help."

"All of that is immaterial if I cannot leave this place."

Satele stood and smoothed her robes. "You've noticed the void and how it has grown since you've come to be here. It has been feeding on your past—the darkness and hatred—the code you live by. I was plagued by something similar myself for a time."

"How do I defeat it?"

"You must release the darkness and the ideals you've been clinging to since you were but a young man. You won't need them. In this form, we serve the will of the Force. We may travel, instruct, speak to and commune with those we left behind, but no more. It takes a great deal of energy to exist among the living. You may find yourself depleted to almost nothing the first time…but with practice, you will regain your essence and with it, your strength. With each attempt, existing among the living in the present will become that much easier."

"The darkness is who I am, it has defined me for a lifetime. All I am is because of it."

"No, that's not true—that's an illusion. Everything that mattered, you've achieved on your own."

"How do you know all this?"

"I've been here longer. I've had more time to adjust and relearn how the Force works. I've learned much. Count yourself as fortunate—not many Sith are permitted to learn how to walk and exist among the living after death and those that have, cannot do so for long. You have a destiny within the Force that transcends all you did in life."

"I will always be Sith."

"But that does not mean we can't work together. You have always looked to death as your ally. Embrace it now. Let go of the darkness."

"With progress, there is always some element of risk. I've understood that my whole life. The Emperor threatens everything. How do I begin?"

"It's quite simple really—all you need do is pass through the void and leave the darkness behind. The void will seek to trap you—lure you to forget your purpose and tempt you to stay—but don't linger, once you've become yourself again, the void will begin to deteriorate. If you are trapped within, you will remain there forever."

"And what will you be doing? How do I know this isn't a ruse?"

"You will need to believe and to trust. I will meditate on your transition and I will be here when you return."

Master Shan's certainty and calm left me uneasy in the presence of the void. Every impulse in me protested against entering the rupture across the Forcetide.

Jagged trees of purple lightning burned before me, the lightning bleaching my vision until I saw nothing but darkness and spots of acid green. Through the Force, I continued my journey toward the aperture. The spectral atoms comprising my body in this place sizzled and burned as the void closed around me.

Inside, time held no relevance and I was confronted with specters I'd known in life, memories long forgotten or repressed and the answers to questions I hadn't dared to ask.

The void brightened and sharpened into a halcyon world of lake and forest and granatite outcroppings. In the distance stood a temple and I recognized the flags as those of the Jedi. Somehow I understood I was on Tython, long before the Revanite attacks savaged the landscapes and burned much of the forests.

As I approached the temple, a child sat alone on the steps leading up to the temple and at once I recognized Liatrix. Dressed in the drab garb of the Jedi, she watched the other younglings with a vacant gaze and despite their attempts to engage her in their play, she remained unmoved.

Days passed uncounted and every day was the same. She remained as stubbornly fixed on the front steps as the garden planters adorning them. By this time, the other children had come to accept her lack of interest and ignored her as they played out their games and lessons.

At the top of the steps, a man I recognized as an older incarnation of Master Zho urged a young boy down the steps toward Liatrix. He was perhaps a couple of years older than Liatrix and through the Force, I came to understand that this boy was the one I'd met on Belsavis.

The boy descended the steps as if he were being urged toward a firing squad. Before making his presence known to Liatrix, he turned back to Master Zho in a last ditch effort to get out of the chore he'd been assigned. Zho flicked his hand in a gesture to continue.

The boy settled on the step next to Liatrix but said nothing to her. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled a tiny blue-feathered creature from his pocket, allowing it to perch on his palm. The boy whistled a tune and the Peko Pekos chick cheerfully warbled the tune back to him.

Liatrix glanced at the boy over her shoulder and frowned at his intrusion. The boy smirked and mirrored her expression. The tiny chick pulled it's beak into its face and squinted meanly at Liatrix.

Her eyes widened, but still, she said nothing.

The boy whistled, again and again, each tune growing in complexity. The bird echoed the sounds until the boy stopped making them.

Liatrix appeared to be debating something and then whistled a short shrill tune. The chick fluffed and shivered its wings and warbled back at her.

She smiled and the boy scooched closer to her on the step. "Wanna hold 'im?"

Liatrix nodded and he took her hand and urged the Peko Pekos chick onto her palm.

She watched the bird settle and giggled at the brush of its feathers against her skin.

"His name is Merl…and I'm Theron," the boy added quietly after some hesitation.

At that moment, I realized the boy was Theron Shan, son of Satele Shan and for the briefest moment, I understood the Force was comprised of planned paths and that every encounter was purposeful and a lesson to be learned. Nothing within the Force was random—the Force had a plan.

Theron swallowed. "W-what's yours?"

"Liatrix," she whispered in such a low voice that Theron only caught the last of it.

"Trixie," he smirked.

The chick chirped its attempt at her name and they laughed.

"I think Merl likes you."

Several days passed and I caught glimpses of the two younglings at play and again after their lessons.

Unable to move the stone he was assigned to move, Theron growled in frustration. Liatrix took his hand in hers. "Close your eyes. Don't look."

They closed their eyes and the stone moved.

"You can look now," Liatrix said.

Theron opened his eyes and they lit up with the giddy gleam that came with success, only to fade a moment later, when the realization came that it was she who had moved the stone, not him.

"You moved it."

"So?"

"You don't get it," Theron grunted and stalked off leaving Liatrix alone and confused.

Her brows puckered and the stone crumbled to dust under her frustration.

Images sped by in a dizzying vortex before growing still once more.

Liatrix stood on the step where they'd met, her face red and wet with tears. "Don't go."

"I gotta. They won't let me stay here anymore. I can't feel the Force like you or the others," Theron said in a low voice.

"I don't want you to go," Liatrix sniffled and stomped her foot.

"Master Zho said you can visit Merl whenever you want."

"I don't care," Liatrix crossed her arms and pouted.

"Trixie…don't. I have to go, okay?"

Her lower lip quivered and the tears came fast and thick. "It's not okay." She stomped her foot again. "It's not!"

Theron shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Bye, Trixie." Downcast he shuffled toward the waiting shuttle.

The craft rose high above the courtyard at the Jedi temple and sped off into the clouds.

The planter next to Liatrix exploded sending globs of soil in every direction.

The Jedi master in charge of the sparring droids raced toward her. "That's not how we act here. Take a deep breath and then clean this up."

" _You_ clean it up! I hate it here! I hate _you_. I hate _all_ of you," she hissed.

"Hate leads to darkness," the Jedi announced.

"I don't care," she hissed and stalked off.

The darkness within me roiled and responded to Liatrix's anger and hatred within the void.

Satele Shan's voice manifested in my mind. "Release the darkness. Let it go and continue forward…Hurry!"

I shut her voice out of my mind and commanded the Darkness I'd carried with me to become one with the void.

My saber hand clenched and I strode further into the abyss. I raised my arm to shield myself from the onslaught of violent energy pelting me as I moved forward.

A pinhole of light came into view and as I neared it, I realized it was the exit to the other side and that it was shrinking. The void shuddered and quaked, throwing me off balance as I sprinted toward the closing aperture. At the last moment, I hurled my body toward it and somersaulted onto the Forcetide beach. The void vanished behind me. The waves lapped at my feet and the sky above me cleared to a storm-free blue.

Left exhausted and panting, I pushed myself to my feet. To my surprise, my feet no longer felt leaden and I moved with a weightless grace. With every moment that passed, my existence became effortless.

"It surprises you…how it feels to be one with the Force," Satele Shan said calmly without opening her eyes.

"Yes…in life every step seemed a burden."

"It surprised me too, how insidious the change can be. I lost touch with the Force and it wasn't until it was too late, that I realized it. I have much to atone for."

"As do I." I paced the beach and gazed out at the undulating waves rolling toward the shore. "So what now?"

"Now…you must rest and when you have rested enough make your first foray into the present and see what has become of our worlds. Your strength will return as you become proficient in travel." She unfurled from kneeling to stand and brushed the sand from her robes. "I must go, but I am only a thought away."

"Where are you going, Master Shan?"

"To begin the preparations. A balanced gathering place will be needed when the time comes. I must find it. By the time I do, you should be strong enough to join me."

"Until then."

* * *

Time passes differently within the Forcetide, so I could not discern how long I had been at rest. All I knew was that my essence had returned to full strength and the time had come to venture forth into the present of the living.

With the speed of thought, I found myself on Dromund Kaas, more specifically, at the nearly completed Neo Citadel. The mood was more somber than usual and more troops patrolled both inside and out.

I strode into Vowrawn's offices and stood before his desk. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and his usually flamboyant robes appeared slightly bedraggled. Datapads dominated his desk and the logistics minister looked as if he wanted to flee and never come back.

I folded my arms over my chest as I did in life and waited for him to stop scheming long enough to notice my presence.

He stood and toyed with his chin tendrils and then as if someone had stuck him with a nerf prod, he glanced up, eyes sharp and wide. His mouth fell agape and he gasped.

"So it's true. We all felt your passing within the Force—but if I were, to be honest, I never quite believed it—not for a single moment. Is that really you, old friend?"

"Yes, Vowrawn."

Vowrawn clapped his hands together. "Wonderful. That means it may be possible for me as well. Unless Nox finds a way for us to avoid death altogether. It strikes me as being rather messy—not to mention I'm still rather partial to certain fleshly pursuits," he said without taking a breath. "So what brings you here?"

"I serve the will of the Force, now."

"Leave it to you to suck all the joy out of the afterlife." Vowrawn waved me off and sat again. "I hoped perhaps you had found a way to tip the war in our favour. So, what would the Force have me do?" He grinned broadly and tapped his fingertips together.

"Bring Ravage to the Council chambers. I wish to speak with him."

"Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. It almost makes me wish I were as corporeally challenged as you."

"Then consider your wish granted. Just be sure to invite the rest of the council to join you and remain out of sight for the duration."

"Oh, I do have the inkling that this will be quite delicious. I'm practically giddy. Perhaps serving the will of the Force isn't as tedious as it sounds. Nox will be delighted, I'm sure."

"Of that, I have no doubt. Can you arrange this, preferably within the hour?"

"I can, but I'm curious—what do you need us for?"

"I think that will become abundantly clear when the time comes."

"Consider it done, old friend."

Three-quarters of an hour later, I stood at the center of the Dark Council chambers. Vowrawn and Ravage's bickering voices grew louder until the chamber doors parted and they strolled inside.

"I don't have time for your games, Vowrawn. What's this nonsense about?"

"An old friend of ours would like a word."

"Who?" Ravage spat.

"Him," Vowrawn indicated with an upturned palm.

Ravage's eyes narrowed into steely slits. "Marr…"

"And seeing as I have no desire to referee this match, I'll be going now. Pity. I should've opened this to a wager."

"A pointless exercise, Vowrawn. He can't hurt me."

Vowrawn's laughter rang through the chamber and the doors shut behind him leaving an echo in their wake.

"I have more important things to do than argue with a Force Ghost."

"More important things? Such as...betraying the Empire, the Dark Council? Conspiring to assassinate a fellow dark council member?"

"How dare you, Marr."

"I know the truth, Ravage. You're a traitor. You betrayed the Empire—you've been colluding with the Republic and the SIS."

"Preposterous!"

"You arranged Torin Zane's escape from the containment facility. You've been in league with Torin Zane and Aruna Var since their first assassination attempt on my life, if not before. You arranged for Aruna Var to return to Kaas City. They were talented operatives, but not that talented. They required an inside man, and you—you are that man."

"You're the one who allowed her into your own home. If anyone is guilty of giving away the Empire's secrets, it would be you, Marr. What was she privy to, having free run of your stronghold? Not to mention my men were the ones who captured her."

"Convenient. You betrayed her too. You imprisoned her and emptied her mind for a month before you turned her in. Clearly, you're incapable of loyalty to anyone, Ravage."

"Are you accusing me of attempting to assassinate you? That's a bit of a moot point now, wouldn't you say?" Ravage laughed coldly.

"No," I strode toward Ravage and towered over him. "You never wanted me dead. You wanted me to suffer, to quote you in your own words."

"How do you know this…"

"Because I was there. I saw everything—through the Force. You betrayed the Empire."

"The Empire? I betrayed you. I had your killed. Hmph, so why don't you try and prove it? Who would believe the word of a Force Ghost over a Dark Councillor?"

"I would," Vowrawn said, stepping into the open from the alcove behind his throne.

"So would I," Nox said, revealing herself next.

"Marr has no reason to lie, but your stories have never quite added up, Ravage," Mortis added as he stepped forward.

"He has every reason—vengeance for one!"

"Waiting over four years after his own death to avenge his family? I do admire a patient man. Well played, Marr." Nox smirked and broke into a slow clap.

"In a time of war, if we cannot rely on one another, all is lost. Who would you collude with next, the Eternal Empire? You've committed treason, Ravage, and that will not be allowed to stand."

"You're all mad!" Ravage snarled.

Nox picked at her nails. "Why yes…yes we are. And you know what? _I_ am going to enjoy this immensely."

She lobbed a barrage of white-purple lightning at Ravage's chest, enough to throw him on his rear. As he doubled-over and writhed, she stood over him and sneered. "I could do this all day."

"I'd rather you didn't. I have places to be." Mortis ignited his lightsaber and drove it into Ravage's gut.

"And now the final indignity." Vowrawn knelt and patted Ravage's cheek. "I need to water the sarlaac."

"What?" Ravage mumbled as he spat up scads of blood.

Vowrawn stood and parted his robes and reached into his undershorts. He turned his back to the others and took aim at Ravage's face.

An amber stream snaked off Ravage's cheek to the floor and ran parallel to his body, wetting his robes.

Mortis slapped his forehead and grimaced. "At times I can't believe you, Vowrawn. Was _that_ really necessary?"

Vowrawn finished and tucked his member back into his robes. "Mortis—believe me when I tell you, it could always be _worse_."

Ravage's body gurgled and twitched before growing impossibly still.

"I'm leaving before you decide to on the corpse. Have someone clean this up," Mortis muttered and stalked out.

"Oh Mortis, always such a buzz kill." Nox slapped her hands together in a gesture of completion. "You two always know how to show a girl a good time. Does this mean you'll be staying with us, Marr?"

"No, but the well-being of the Empire will always be my priority."

"A shame. You know, I _could_ bind your ghost…having you in me…that could be fun," she oozed.

Vowrawn chuckled nervously. "Nox, dear, would you give us a moment?"

"Oh, if I must. Good-bye, Marr. Feel free to invite me again. I do love a good party—and this was a _very_ good party."

After Nox took her leave, Vowrawn and I regarded one another for a long time. "So—was that a fitting ending, old friend?"

"Quite. My only regret is that I wasn't able to do so myself."

Vowrawn smirked. "You still manage to surprise me."

I chuckled. "Hmph. Good-bye—old friend."

Vowrawn cackled and stood over Ravage's corpse as I dissolved, and I carried the idea of what he'd do next with me into the Forcetide with a smile.

* * *

The End (for now, roll credits…)

Author's Note: Bit sad now that it's over. I hope you all enjoyed the story and the journey so far. Hard to believe it's been another year. Going to take a short break for now and who knows where that will lead…It may lead to 'The Sanctuary of Regret' if there is interest. Thanks for all the encouragement and lovely comments, I appreciate each and every one of you and thank you for reading.


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